


What makes us

by maliwanhellfire



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull comes later, Angst, F/F, F/M, Humour, It Makes Sense In Context, Kossith!Dorian, Kossith!Felix, M/M, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, This was done for the prompt Vashoth Dorian and the Demands of the Qun, and more exact, bear with me on the Felix/Dorian, egregious use of the word Kossith, it's just so useful, musings on Kossith politics, slowest of burns, sorry buddy, terminal illness, theladylily, turns out I can't do that one succinctly, yelling in a later chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maliwanhellfire/pseuds/maliwanhellfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There are Qunari, Vashoth, and Tal Vashoth.</i><br/>Felix and Dorian are something different. </p><p> </p><p>The first thing anyone sees is the horns. Unfortunately there's a lot more to it than that. Felix and Dorian might be Kossith, but they're also 'Vints. Dorian's quite aggressive about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Be wary of dichotomy

**Author's Note:**

> So you might've seen the first little run at this on my tumblr (maliwanhellfires, come say hi), as part of a response to a prompt by Ladylily.  
> Well, there's more of it now, and it's probably going to be fairly long, and it again jumps into a whole bunch of musing about Qunari and Vashoth values and culture, except this time it also has two people who completely rejected both, and instead committed themselves to another culture as a result of coercion (though they both think of it as choice).  
> Because of that, there's some potentially very triggering stuff in here about forced assimilation, Stockholm syndrome, and having an identity that was partially forged by that. Everyone has political opinions that are less than idealist, and personal identity isn't always treated with respect.  
> I might not get everything right, and if I haven't tagged something, or you have any concerns, please do tell me. I know authorial intent isn't worth jack shit... But if I write something that comes across more as apologism than an attempt to address the ways people cope with awful situations... I'd like to try to fix it. Not that it's the reader's job to do that, but if you know... You know what I mean.
> 
> In any case, here it is. Dorian as a Kossith, and always as a 'Vint.

Bull lived in a world of grays, built on the ruin of absolutes. If he had a purpose, it was that; to walk the wilds so others would not have to. To be as imperfect as he needed to be, for the betterment of his people. It required a certain flexibility, which in and of itself was a dangerous thing. 

Saarebas, so to speak.

 

\----

 

Gereon Alexius was an over-confident horse’s ass, who oozed his words instead of speaking them, and didn’t quite manage to fool by gilding over rot. He was the sort of man you’d let win in a round of poker, so you could take him for more the second time. Alexius had no face for negotiation. Unfortunately, he didn’t need to. He had what they needed and he knew it. 

“I’m happy to speak of business,” Alexius said. “I know your retinue could benefit from some support. I could be persuaded to part with some of my mages, if we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. Please, do sit.”

Inkuudi stared him down for a moment, looking into his gormless face with patience and distaste. They’d come to Redcliffe seeking an alliance that had, apparently, not been offered. Bull knew, as he was sure Inkuudi did, that Alexius had something to do with it.

“Thank you,” Inkuudi said, seating herself across from Alexius at a bench.

Adaar and Alexius were seated, but Bull remained standing, looking around the room through the corner of his eye. There wasn’t much to see, the Gull and Lantern was clearly long past its heyday. The tavern was decorated with threadbare wall coverings, and rusting lamp fittings. There weren’t too many people about either, just a single, Vashoth slave standing behind the ‘Vint. 

The slave was well dressed, in tailored robes fashioned in Tevinter style, which was something of a surprise. Although that was the sort of quirk one could expect from a magister who liked the look of things. His horns were curled like a ram’s, and they’d been polished with some kind of lacquer. He was pale for a Kossith, and broad too, though not as broad as Bull was. He had his hands clasped behind his back and his face pointed politely d-

The man looked up, right into Bull’s eyes. He held, for two beats, too long for it to be a mistake, before averting his gaze again. 

“Felix?” Magister Alexius asked, his voice softer than it had been. “Would you mind calling a scribe for us?”

Felix bowed, a bare ducking of his shoulders and a tip of his head. 

“Of course, Sir,” Felix replied, his voice crisp and Tevene-accented. 

Inkuudi couldn’t hide the displeased curl of her lip, but it wasn’t directed at Felix. Neither Josephine nor Cullen had been able to teach her tact. She wasn’t made to be dishonest, which was one of the things Bull liked and valued about her. Liked  _and_  valued, because they weren’t the same. Alexius’ expression remained mild even after he saw her disapproval. 

“Is something bothering you?” He asked. 

“I suppose you think that’s clever,” Adaar replied. “Did you buy him just for this meeting or have you been saving him for a rainy day?”

Alexius snorted. 

“Hardly. That would be frightfully gauche,” Alexius said. “Felix has been with me for years. And you needn’t look so hassled, he’s not one of yours. He came to us from the Qun, and believe me, he’s better off.”

The Inquisitor’s back stiffened but she made no further comment. She didn’t need to. Bull could see her eyes were wild, and it had to be foolishness that kept the smile on Alexius’ face, because she looked fit to kill. 

Bull didn’t mind the sentiment, but he was content to wait on it. There was something in Felix that Bull needed more context to, if he were to define it. He knew better than to trust a fellow Qunari so far from home. The accent was too natural to be affected, and time and isolation could’ve had their sway. His time in Tevinter certainly hadn’t broken him; even though it should have. 

When Felix returned, he did so to stony silence, with a pallid face and trembling legs. The sweat on his brow was real, but there was still something canny in the man’s eyes, something artificial in his shakes. 

“Felix!” Alexius said, his upset blatant. 

Honest too, and that was the thing that gave Bull pause. The fear threading through his voice was as real as Felix’s submission was not. It was there in the tension around his eyes, the twitch of his arms as he stopped himself from reaching out to the other man. 

Alexius cared about him. 

That startling epiphany was enough that when Felix stumbled, Bull was too slow to stop Inkuudi from catching him. 

“Are you alright?” She asked, trying to catch his eyes even as Felix tried to avoid hers. 

“My apologies, my lady,” Felix said. 

“You should be more careful,” Alexius said, the firmness unconvincing. “I will deal with you later, please confine yourself to your room until I have time to deal with you.”

“Yes Sir,” Felix replied. 

“You can’t get good help these days,” Alexius said.

Alexius watched Felix leaving the room from out the corner of his eye. Some of Alexius’ bravado went with him, but his motives were no easier to define because of it.

The meeting didn’t last long after that, but Bull didn’t expect it to. 

 

\---

 

“That got us  _almost_  nowhere,” Bull said, once they were outside. 

“Not quite,” Inkuudi replied. 

She raised her hand, fingers held together around a short note. 

“He wants to meet at the Chantry,” She said. “He says I’m in danger.”

“When are you not?” Bull asked, quirking his lip. 

 

\---

 

There was a rift in the Chantry. And demons. And distortions in time. Bull found himself rather unfond of it.

But that wasn’t the curious part, the curious part was that there was a Kossith mage in the centre of it, and he wasn’t Felix.

“Oh, Boss, you take me to all the best places,” Bull said.

“I know,” Inkuudi said, with a touch of self-deprecation.

The Kossith had a staff with a large, stone focus on the end. He used it to beat a demon over the head. Bull found himself reluctantly impressed; mages were usually very precious about their staves. The man spun the staff in a lazy arc before tapping it against the stone floor; he turned to face them with his chin held high, shoulders back. He was posturing, but only a little.

“Ah, honoured guests,” The Kossith said. “If I could ask your assistance in closing this rift, I would be _very_ appreciative.”

His accent, like Felix’s, was Tevinter, only much more aristocratic. His robes, his staff, even his fighting style… There was nothing Qunari about him, and nothing like any Vashoth that Bull had ever met. He’d cut his hair short and dyed it fucking black.

Bull wondered if he hated himself, and how much. But that couldn’t be all there was to it.

“What’s your name?” Bull asked, putting his maul through a demon’s chest cavity.

“Dorian,” He replied.

‘Vint names, too. Felix and Dorian had ‘Vints clothes and ‘Vint manners, and ‘Vint fucking _names_.

 

\---

 

“So,” Inkuudi said, rift freshly gone. “Always nice to meet another… Vashoth? Mage.”

She smiled gamely, looking at Dorian’s asymmetric robes with what had to be confusion. It was odd enough to have met one Kossith slave in a day, but to meet _two_ … And Dorian couldn’t be anything else. There were no Vashoth citizens in Tevinter.

“Vashoth is about as close to correct as we’re going to get,” Dorian said, his smile bright and his voice smug. “And I, myself am honoured to meet the esteemed Herald of Andraste. If I might introduce myself, I am Dorian, servant to House Alexius, and more specifically to Magister Gereon. How do you do?”

“I’m… your name is Dorian?” Inkuudi asked.

“Yes,” He replied.

Now that they were standing closer together, Bull could see that Dorian had two sets of horns. The first pointed backwards, in an elegantly decaying sinusoidal curve. The second was small, barely extending past his ears and pointing upward.

“I’ve, um, I’ve never met a Vashoth with a Tevinter name before,” Inkuudi said. “Before today, I mean.”

“Well, assuming Felix sent you here, now you have met two,” Dorian replied, his tone pitched so that it was a little more friendly than the words were bald. “More things under the sun, and all that.”

“I was expecting to see him, actually.”

“He’ll be along,” Dorian replied. “One has to be a little careful, getting out from under the mantle.”

Inkuudi breathed in deeply, exhaling with a small huff. Bull straightened a little. It paid to be ready, when she was steadying herself like that.

“What is Alexius up to? What did he do to the Grand Enchanter?”

Dorian inclined his head towards her, “You would have noticed some irregularities around Redcliffe?”

“Yes.”

“You met with Fiona in Val Royeaux, but you didn’t meet with this version of her. Fiona should have aligned with you, did align with you, in fact. Alexius couldn’t change that, so he undid it.”

“He altered time?” Inkuudi asked, her face becoming tense with horror.

“You can do that?” Bull asked.

“No,” Inkuudi said, looking at him. “That… No one has ever managed it…”

“Until now,” Dorian said.

“Alexius invented time magic?” Inkuudi asked.

“Well, not as such no.” Dorian said. “He just used it. Although he was involved in the process. It was supposed to stay theory; it’s very unstable.”

“So, who’s the asshole who came up with a fresh way to rip apart the world?” Bull said.

Dorian smiled widely enough to show his teeth, and as his lips moved Bull was finally able to pick up the set of small, even scars that surrounded them. They were pale and old, the kind you got from heavy stitches.

“That would be me,” Dorian said.

 

\---

 

Inkuudi was very quiet on the ride back to Haven. Bull let her be for the first hour. There was probably stiff competition for what was worrying her most, whether that be the consequences of Dorian’s research, or the alliance with the mages, or even Alexius himself. From what Bull knew of her, he imagined there was some guilt as well, for having left two of her own people behind with a Magister. Although they weren’t quite hers, not really.

“They were _Qunari_ once, you know,” Bull said, when enough time had passed.

“I figured,” Inkuudi said. “I saw the… Those scars around his lips. From where they were sewn closed.”

“They’re not anymore,” That much was obvious. “But if slavers got them, they might not be Tal Vashoth either… It’s easy enough to do a raid in Seheron, and if Dorian’s still alive, the Arvaarad didn’t have him for long.”

“So they don’t belong anywhere,” Inkuudi said, sadly.

Bull growled a little under his breath. The last thing anyone needed was the Inquisitor relating to rogue Kossith. Barely even that, they were so assimilated into Tevinter culture. Whatever their motives, Bull had no trust for them. They were betraying one Master, regardless of the cause. What was to say they wouldn’t do the same to another, in the name of self-interest?

“You don’t like them, do you?” Inkuudi asked.

“I don’t know them,” Bull said.

“I hate it when you do that,” She replied. “When you have an opinion but you just won’t tell me, because I won’t like it, and you don’t think I can handle it.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it wasn’t as if Bull wanted her to know it. He did like her, Vashoth or not.

“I’m not different,” Inkuudi said, stopping her horse in its tracks and turning to glare at him.

Bull looked down at her hand, “You kind of are.”

“I’m not! And I wish you’d stop looking down your nose at us, like we’re too stupid to be proper members of the Qun.”

She was so angry she was shaking, rage built so quickly that she must have been nursing it for days. He couldn’t help it that she didn’t know just how bad things could be, how dangerous Tal Vashoth were. She was a notable exception, but an exception none-the-less. Good-living Vashoth were a minority.

“Ink…” Bull said.

She cut him off.

“Don’t speak to me,” She replied, turning away from him, eyes shining.

 

\---

 

“ _Are you sure you want to do this?_ ” Felix asked.

They always spoke Tevene when they were alone. Qunlat no longer felt comfortable, after years of being told not to speak it. Common was tiring. No matter that everyone spoke it in the South, months in and they still thought in Tevene, had to focus on the dialect switch when they did it. Tevene had become their mother tongue, albeit an adopted one.

“ _No_.” Dorian replied. “ _But we’ve come this far, and we can’t let him do this to himself…_ ”

“ _Not because of me._ ” Felix said, his self-hatred so apparent that it hurt Dorian to hear it.

“ _Don’t say that_!” Dorian said.

Felix turned his head away, so Dorian curled his hand around Felix’s horn and pulled him back. When Felix wouldn’t look at him, he dropped his hand to Felix’s jaw and tilted it up.

“ _If it were between you and a hundred men, I’d always choose you_ ,” Dorian said. “ _I won’t pretend I don’t know where he’s coming from…_ ”

“ _Dorian, that is viciously unhealthy,_ ” Felix replied, sounding quite unimpressed.

“ _But! This is about the good of the world, and the good of our beloved, though flawed, country_.”

“ _And the good of our beloved, though flawed, mentor cum guardian cum owner._ ”

“ _And you,_ ” Dorian said, quietly. “ _We sort this and then we won’t have to waste any more time, we can put aside this dead end and finally…_ ”

Felix put a finger over Dorian’s lips to stop him speaking. He let his hand fall away and then leant in close, until their foreheads were touching. Dorian had always thought they were made to touch that way, their horns arranged in complimentary shapes, such that Felix’s wrapped around his.

“ _Always living outside the now,_ Amatus,” Felix said, though fondly.

“ _That’s why I have you to keep me here,_ ” Dorian replied.

Felix kissed him gently, before pulling back. He was smiling, but there was some sadness to it.

“ _Be careful, and come back soon,_ ” Felix said.

“ _I’m always careful,_ ” Dorian said primly.

“ _Lies,_ ” Felix replied.

Dorian secured his pack and his staff to his back, and leant down to remove the cloth they’d used to muffle the feet of one of Alexius’ mares. Alexius had long trusted them to keep to his holdings, so it was easy enough to get into the stables and out again at night. That trust was going to be gone come morning, but hopefully they wouldn’t need it any more.

“ _Seriously, please be mindful when you’re around that man with the Inquisitor. He’s not too fond of us._ ”

“ _Well, nobody likes ‘Vints_ ,” Dorian said, pulling himself up and onto the saddle. “ _And it could be worse…_ ”

“ _How?_ ”

“ _He could be a Qunari!_ ” Dorian replied, adjusting his grip on the reins, leading his horse out onto the road to Haven.

 

 

 


	2. What to do, when love doesn't love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I had some trouble with this, and the first part isn't what I want it to be... But damnit I tried, and the second bit has Felix's perspective and he is a squirrely son of a bitch.

 

“So,” Inkuudi said. “Is this how you saw your day going?”

Dorian looked at her, and then at the flooded, lyrium-lined room they were standing in. Alexius, Bull, and everyone else she’d ever commanded, were gone.

“Maybe,” Dorian admitted. “But I’m a pessimist.”

 

\---

 

Felix was screaming, hands gripping his own horns as he looked at the burn on the floor. The Boss was gone, and so was Dorian. Cassandra was a few steps in front of him, shaking her head as if she couldn’t help it, her grip on her sword so tight that Bull could almost hear the leather creaking.

Gone… They were just…

“Na, na, na _na!_ ” Felix moaned, finally unclenching his hands and turning towards Alexius.

“What should we do?” Bull said, turning to Red.

“We deal with Alexius first,” She replied. “Then we get out of here.”

Felix was shouting at Alexius, his hands fisted in the front of the other man’s robes. He was speaking Tevene, so quickly and so thick with upset that Bull couldn’t understand more than a few phrases. He kept saying Venhedis, _go unto the void_ , and along with that, Dorian’s name.

All Alexius kept saying was, _I did it for you_.

 

\---

 

“It’s good to see you, Boss,” Bull said, his voice distorted, almost echoing.

“You too,” Ink replied.

Bull laughed under his breath, and the sound was about as upsetting as it was beautiful. The lyrium had left him swathed in red veilfire, and it was hard to get past the disconnect of Bull looking as well as he had, last she’d seen him, but knowing he was dying.

“I don’t remember you being this bad a liar,” Bull said.

“I’m all for tender reunions, but if we could get back to the matter at hand…” Dorian said, peering down the stairs, further into the dungeon.

“He, however, is exactly as I remember him being,” Bull said, lip curling.

“At least I made an impression!” Dorian loudly replied.

 

\---

 

“It was the only way,” Alexius said.

“You wasted the better part of me,” Felix said, with gritted teeth.

It took weeks before Bull realized what he meant, but then he had been thinking of them as _almost_ Qunari, and there were things that Qunari did not do. Things they could not be.

 

\---

 

Dorian cried out when Felix died, hand reaching out to nothing. Alexius though, he went incandescent, falling to his knees, his eyes so pained that it was as if he’d seen the end of the world. All of Thedas, laid to waste, but for him the end came with the death of a man he’d kept as a slave.

“I never should have taken you as well,” Alexius said, his mourning turned to hate as he stared Dorian down. “You ungrateful, faithless beast.”

The words hit Dorian like blows, but he did not waver. He adjusted his grip on his staff and met Alexius’ eyes.

“Everything I’ve ever done…” Dorian said, voice cutting off, whatever he was going to say lost.

“We’ll undo this,” Ink said.

 _We’ll undo this_ , she thought, as Alexius fell to ice and fire.

 _We’ll undo this_ , she thought, as Leliana died and Dorian pulled her back through the rift.

 

\---

 

The first thing Inkuudi did, having appeared from the air like a creature of myth, was punch Magister Alexius in the face. Felix merely pulled Dorian into his arms and cried.

It was all very dramatic.

 

\---

 

Nobody seemed to know what to do with them, but the difference between Dorian and Felix was that Dorian enjoyed it. He considered himself lucky that Felix found his antics amusing.

“Avanna,” Dorian said, bowing his head slightly at the Blacksmith.

“Nnn,” The Blacksmith replied.

His eyes travelled slowly from the horns, to the dyed hair, and then down to Dorian’s robes. He paused there, where Dorian’s grey shoulder showed through the separated sleeve. Dorian clicked his fingers and the Blacksmith flustered, looking back up at him.

“Pleasure to meet you,” He said, right before Felix grabbed him by the arm and dragged him off.

“ _You have to stop doing that,_ ” Felix said.

“ _Oh stop doing that, he says, while speaking Tevene,_ ” Dorian replied.

“ _You’re lucky I love you_ ,” Felix said, switching to Common. “Would you please cease your poking at the bear. We want to be friends with it.”

“I’m just providing some exposure therapy, they’ll be used to us soon enough.”

“If they let us stay, after all your stirring! You know, it might be easier if we start dressing differently,” Felix suggested, with the careful air of a man expecting to be yelled at.

Dorian looked him in the eye, and raised one of his brows. Just the one. It made more of an impression, and after spending his teenage years practicing it in the mirror, he’d become quite good at it.

“We don’t have to dress like this anymore,” Felix said. “We can wear whatever we like.”

Dorian’s brow lowered to meet the other one, and then both of them took a trip lower still.

“I like the way I dress,” Dorian said.

“Alright,” Felix said evenly. “But I think I’d like to try something different, and I don’t want you to feel… Singled out.”

“I am a seven-foot tall man with horns, in a town that is predominantly shorter and significantly less horny. I’m going to be noticed.”

Felix snickered.

“What are you… Oh, do grow up, Felix,” Dorian said.

“All of me or just the part below the- ow!”

Dorian slapped him on the arm, and then he slapped him again a little harder. Felix caught his hand the third time.

“Save it for the bedroom,” He said, lowly.

“We don’t even have a bedroom,” Dorian replied.

“Oh, yes.” Felix said, disappointed.

 

\---

 

“At least we have a trajectory,” Leliana said, clapping her hand on Ink’s arm.

“True enough,” She replied.

She smiled with a warmth she did not feel, her body cold with anxiety. It was a relief to know what was coming, but she couldn’t just shrug off the weight of all her new expectations. She was going to have to live with it, or… She was going to have to live with it.

When she left the War Room, Dorian was waiting for. He ducked his head at her, taking a moment to do the same to Leliana, still standing behind her. Leliana stared him down, and he returned her gaze, expression mild but unblinking.

“How can we help you?” Leliana asked.

“I was hoping to speak with our dear Inquisitor about how I and my companion might serve in future,” Dorian said.

“Dorian, you’re a free man,” Ink said. “I know Magister Alexius is still awaiting trial, but that doesn’t mean that we, uh, we own your contract.”

Dorian straightened a little, and Inkuudi was sure she could see some amusement in his eyes before they softened.

“I know. But we’d still like to stay. You already know that I’m capable with research…”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“And Felix is an applied arcanist of some skill, and he’s good with children. Which you now have a lot of.”

“We’d be pleased to have you,” Ink replied, something tugging at her gut.

She was fairly sure it was loneliness, and maybe hope. She wanted very badly to have just a few moments in a day where she didn’t feel quite so different from every person around her. Maybe they didn’t have much in common, but they had kinship, in the purest sense of the word, and she’d never have that with any dwarf, human or elf.

“I’ll let Josephine know…” Leliana said, still looking at Dorian with some reserve.

“You have our thanks,” Dorian said, bowing.

“Come along, I’ll find you somewhere a little more permanent to bed down in,” Ink said, slipping her arm through Dorian’s and leading him away. She raised a hand in farewell, tugging them both away from Leliana and anyone else that might express an opinion.

“I’m sorry,” Ink said, once they were outside. “They can be… Funny… About Kossith sometimes, although that’s probably because the last one we took on was Bull.”

Dorian shook his head, his horns shining in the sunlight. They were a lot like her mother’s, pointed back and falling in a wave. Dorian’s didn’t have a twist to them, though. She’d never seen any like them.

“I think it’s more the fact that we’re from Tevinter,” Dorian said. “Which is fair, given the circumstances.”

“It’s not as if you had any say it,” Ink said.

Her statement didn’t have the impact she’d expected it would. Instead of looking relieved, Dorian looked stiff, his arm going tense in her grip.

“What did I say?” She asked, wanting dearly not to offend him.

“I’m not sure anyone will understand, but, Tevinter is my home, and I do love it. If I had my time over again, I would want it to be there,” Dorian said. “I was stolen, but it was from a life that didn’t want me.”

Ink looked at the pale scars on Dorian’s face, and then past them. Dorian was… Well, he was very Tevinter. He had kohl-lined eyes, and a fine-boned face. There was even a beauty mark next to his eye. He was beautiful, and his words were sharp enough to cut. Tevinter had allowed him that. The Qun had not.

“How old were you, when you left?” Ink asked.

“We were nine,” Dorian replied.

“I thought… I thought that after ten years, you didn’t have to be a… a slave, anymore.”

“I’m not sure Tevinter is ready for a Kossith citizen,” Dorian said sadly. “Although if there is to be a first, I’d be happy if it were me.”

“But, why?” Ink asked. “You were a child and they enslaved you, how…”

“Three square meals a day, and a free education, in a country dedicated to the study of magic… It was better treatment than an alienage, a better education than I could hope to get in any Southern circle.” Dorian said, his voice becoming much milder. “I was always going to be trapped by circumstance. Tevinter at least freed my mind. The Qun only ever sewed my lips shut.”

Put that way, it sounded reasonable, but that moment of thinking so was enough to make Ink feel sick. Dorian had laid his life out, determined to see the good in it, having gone from abuse to exploitation. Alexius had trained him, yes, but he’d also used him. Taken his magic and ripped through the world. And the way he’d spoken to Dorian...

How could Alexius take a child into his home and treat them like an object? Like a pet, doing tricks? And surely Dorian’s experience was less dreadful than the norm.

Still, it wasn’t her life, and it wasn’t her place to tell him different.

“But I suppose you wouldn’t know much about that, since you are not Tal, and all’s the better,” Dorian said, patting her hand. “I guess you could ask Bull more about it, he seems to know a lot about the Qun, was he in the military, before he left?”

She didn’t think about it. She’d curse it later, but she didn’t _think_ about it.

“Left?” Ink asked. “Bull hasn’t left, he’s still a part of the Qun. He’s quite open about it.”

“Then he must be Ben Hassrath?” Dorian said, voice very, very light.

“Mmm,” She said. “He’s a spy.”

 

\---

 

“ _Felix, we’re leaving_ ,” Dorian said, taking him by the forearm and pulling him away from the staff he’d been mending.

“ _Dorian, what in Thedas_?” Felix asked.

Dorian was wild-eyed, his grip on Felix’s arm tight with fear. Felix could feel the tremor in him more than see it, but it was still there before his eyes. It brought him back to the days they’d spent on the ship from Seheron to Minrathous. When Dorian still had his stitches, and a collar he’d scratched at, until his throat had bled.

“Amatus, _please_ ,” Felix said, freeing himself from Dorian’s grip, running his hands up and down Dorian’s arms to gentle him.

“ _Bull, the, the one with the Inquisitor, the mercenary…_ ”

“ _Yes_?”

“ _He’s one of them, he’s_ Ben Hassrath, _and we need to leave. I can’t go back to that, Felix. I can’t let it happen to you…_ ”

Felix pulled him in close, tucking him so they were face to face, Dorian safe between his horns. He shushed him, gently touching his face and waiting for him to calm.

“ _Felix, they’ll cut out my tongue_ ,” Dorian whispered.

“ _I won’t let that happen_ ,” Felix said. “ _It’s alright, if you want, we can leave. But he hasn’t done anything yet, so we’re not going to run off half-dressed. We have time to plan._ ”

Dorian was silent, his beautiful, green eyes darting over Felix’s face. His lips were slightly parted, the way they were when he had too much to say, and all the words got blocked up.

“ _M-Master Alexius, wait, I forgot, we can’t leave…_ ”

“ _Fuck Alexius_ ,” Felix hissed. “ _He’s taken enough, we have no power over what happens to him_.”

“ _Felix_ …”

“ _The other day, you said if it were me or a hundred men, you’d choose me_.”

“ _Yes, Felix, you know I would_.”

Felix clasped his hand behind Dorian’s neck, turned his head just enough that their lips could brush.

“ _Dorian, I will always choose you. So if we need to go, we go, but carefully._ ”

“ _I don’t want to leave him behind_ ,” Dorian said, sad and unsure.

Felix did. He wanted to see Alexius with his head cut off. Alexius had loved him, but everything about it had been selfish. He’d taken Felix’s kindness and in return he would have killed Felix’s heart so the husk of him could live. He’d spent five minutes thinking Dorian was dead, and it had been a lifetime.

 _I did it for you_ , Alexius had said.

Well, Felix had never fucking asked him to.

“ _There never was so sweet a fool as you_ ,” Felix said.

“ _Don’t condescend_ ,” Dorian said, though weakly.

“ _There’s no more to give. Write him letters, if you must, but you did all you could_.”

“ _He said_ …” Dorian started.

His eyes welled up, and Felix tilted as far to the side as he could to kiss each of Dorian’s cheeks in turn.

“ _He’s said a lot of things before when he was upset, he never did mean them_.”

He had. Alexius was never more honest than when he was angry, but Dorian didn’t need to know that. Clever though he was, if Felix spoke firmly enough, Dorian would always believe him. Such a ‘Vint in loyalty and in love.

Dorian took in a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled. He nodded, Felix still wrapped around him, his eyes down. Felix couldn’t help but to kiss him.

“ _Did you find us a room_?” Felix asked.

Dorian nodded.

“ _Alright, nothing new is going to happen today, so why don’t you go lie down, and when I’m done here, I’ll join you_?”

Dorian nodded again.

“ _I love you, Dorian_.”

Dorian smiled, bashful in a way he only ever was when receiving affection. It was like loving a hedgehog. A dear, sweet, wonderful hedgehog.

“ _I love you too_ ,” Dorian replied.

 

\---

 

Someone was following him. They weren’t being too subtle about it, Bull could hear their footsteps, never less then fifteen feet behind him. He considered turning towards the main encampment that housed the Inquisition’s soldiers, but if he did that his little tail would no doubt scamper off to wait for another opportunity.

So he walked towards the Smith instead, taking a path that kept him just a little in shadow. He turned a corner and waited.

He felt something crack, and after that he could not move. Except to breathe. That seemed to be fine. And his lips were working.

“That was a bad idea, you know,” Bull said. “When I get out of this, I might be mad enough to kill you.”

“I am aware,” His captor said, sounding both abashed and Tevinter.

Felix poked his head further out from the side of the building, checking that Bull wasn’t moving. After that he walked a wide circle around him, well out of arm reach. Giving himself space in case he needed to recast. It was sensible strategy, but it didn’t speak to confidence.

“So, I hear you’re Ben Hassrath,” Felix said.

“Is that a problem?” Bull asked.

“Depends on whether you have a problem with us,” Felix replied.

“Not to be a smartass, but you know it’s in my best interest to say I don’t.”

Felix nodded.

“So, what are we going to do?” Bull asked.

“I’m going to make you an offer,” Felix said.

“You don’t have anything I want.”

Felix smiled and nodded his head from side to side.

“I think you’ll find I do,” Felix said.

 

\---

 

“Huh,” Bull said. “That’s… That’s a pretty good offer.”

“I know, right?” Felix replied.

 

 

 

 


	3. Virtue and sobriety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, it felt like a good place to end it.

 

Mercy had always felt like a necessary quality when Ink had been young. It was easy to be idealistic when every true moral quandary had been abstract; something she was unlikely to experience. Now she was only twenty two, but she felt old, and her idealism was dying.

She had no forgiveness for Gereon Alexius, it seemed that Felix didn’t either, from the cold expression on his face. Alexius had tried to meet his eyes when the guards had walked him past, but Felix had refused it. He’d kept his body between Dorian and the closest thing either of them had ever had to a father, and wasn’t that twisted? Alexius had loved, but like mistletoe, spread out and strangling.

Dorian was standing rigidly, his posture perfect when normally he reclined against the nearest surface he could find. He’d looked less afraid at Haven, when his life had been on the line.

If she cut Alexius’ head off, he’d never trouble any of them again, not that he could do much, powerless as he was. Many of her retinue would approve, she was sure, and only one man would truly mourn him.

So the real question was, could she afford to give _Dorian_ an act of mercy?

He wasn’t even looking at her, unwilling to try swaying her, or sure that he couldn’t. She wasn’t sure it would even be better to let Alexius live. Would she lose a good fighter either way?

She saw Felix lean in a little closer to Dorian, surreptitiously taking his hand and entwining their fingers. The only reason she could see it was because she was standing above them, looking down in judgment. Dorian softened a little.

“I should let you hang,” Ink said, projecting her voice to her makeshift court and meeting Alexius’ eyes. “And if you prove you can’t be trusted, you will. We have a perfectly good dungeon for you, otherwise.”

“Killing me would have been kinder,” Alexius said.

“You don’t know what kindness is,” Ink said.

Alexius’ eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t say anymore. Ink stepped down from her throne, not looking at anyone else but him. He started to twitch under her scrutiny. She found a nasty curl of pleasure in it.

“If you behave, I will let you assist the Inquisition in research,” She said.

“I suppose you expect my thanks,” Alexius said, imperiously.

“I’m not doing this for you,” She replied. “So, you will be obedient, and you will be personable, or you will be dead.”

Alexius nodded, hunched and sneering in displeasure. Ink nodded at his guards, and they took him away. When she looked back to Felix and Dorian, Dorian was near shaking with relief, eyes bright with surprise and gratitude. Felix was much more reserved, watching Alexius as he was marched away, his hands both fisted and no longer twinned with Dorian’s.

She heard heavy footsteps coming to her side, and when she turned, she saw Bull. He looked solemn as well, and as much as she welcomed his counsel, Ink wasn’t sure she was ready for a lecture.

“You’re a soft touch, Boss,” Bull said, the words more wistful than judgmental.

“I don’t want to be a tyrant, you know,” Ink said.

“Power does strange things to people, but I can’t imagine you becoming that,” Bull said. “I’m fairly sure tyrants don’t worry as much about it as you do.”

Ink tapped her fist lightly against Bull’s arm, and he feigned rubbing a bruise. She laughed a little in response.

“I guess I better keep worrying then,” She said.

 

\---

 

“So, when I gave you two rooms and you kept saying you were happy to share, you really meant it, huh?” Ink said, as she showed Felix to the Undercroft.

“Well, we were trying to be subtle.” Felix replied. “We might be in the South, but we’re still from Tevinter, you know. We’re learning how to be more open about these things.”

“Are those beds even big enough to fit the two of you?” Ink asked.

Felix sighed happily.

“Dorian’s a cuddler,” He said.

 

\---

 

Krem watched Dorian, a Kossith, run through a Tevinter martial form, one that had probably been designed for fighting Kossith, while wearing Tevinter-styled robes, while being a Kossith. Krem’s sweet, young face was so serious, Bull could almost hear the gears turning. Bull clapped a hand down on his shoulder, companionably.

“Just thought you should know,” Bull said.

“He’s dressed like an altus,” Krem said.

“A what?” Bull asked.

“An upper-class mage.” Krem replied. “Did he kill someone and take their clothes? And… their fighting style.”

“No, he’s just a ‘Vint.”

“Kossith aren’t ‘Vints, Chief… The magisterium wouldn’t allow them,” Krem said, sounding perplexed.

“You telling me that’s not a ‘Vint?” Bull asked.

Dorian seemed to be wearing eyeshadow; his eyelids were sparklier than normal. He was also spinning a staff and launching fireballs into the air. Bull would’ve allowed a hat tip towards being Orlesian, but they didn’t wear so many fucking belts.

“Chief, permission to speak frankly.”

“You have never before asked for that.”

“This confuses and upsets me.”

Krem looked up at him, his brows drawn in and his lips turned down. He strongly resembled a puppy encountering stairs for the first time. Bull tried to look understanding, but Krem’s face only crumpled up more.

“How is he not dead?” Krem whispered.

Dorian finished his routine, taking a moment to put his hair back in place. He then tapped his staff on the ground, looked over at them, and kept looking. He did not seem pleased, but he’d at least stopped acting as if Bull were a barrel full of gaatlok. He held his hand up to his mouth and shouted something in Tevene. It sounded like “Sir who is of most honour, one must remember something-something recompense, if one would like to attend the spectacle which will be held at six.”

“What did he say?” Bull asked.

“He said you have to pay for the dinner show.” Krem replied.  

 

\---

 

Krem looked significantly more upset when the Other One showed up at their corner of the tavern that evening. The stare he levelled at Bull spoke very heavily of betrayal. Bull didn’t blame him. He’d hoped to give Krem a little more time to acclimatise before he let on that there were _two_ Magister-trained Kossith ‘Vints in Skyhold.

“Bull,” Felix said, smiling warmly. “It’s not nice to stalk people, and we had an agreement.”

Which was true.

“Pleased to meet you all, by the way, I’m Felix,” He said, raising a hand at Bull’s Chargers.

Dalish waved back, and Felix was greeted with a chorus of _Hey’_ s.

“Dorian can’t fight his own battles?” Bull asked.

Felix nodded his head from side to side.

And then he shook his head once and said, “ _No_.”

 

\---

 

Two beers in and Skinner had an arm around him, and was saying _I like this guy_ , Krem had stopped looking like there was a spear up his ass, and Grim was staring off blankly into the middle distance. Which, for Grim, was friendly and engaged behaviour.

“I’m not saying he can’t fight, obviously he can,” Felix said. “But he’s fighting for the Inquisition, and researching for the Inquisition; and before he used to do that for Alexius, except Alexius took credit for the work at the end of the day. We’ve been together since we were kids, what sort of person would I be if I didn’t look out for him a little?”

“Yeah,” Krem said. “Yeah!”

Five beers and Krem was telling Felix all about how Bull lost his eye.

“Stepped right in front of a flail, didn’t even know me,” Krem said, gesturing a little more broadly than he had at the start of the night.

“No!” Felix said.

“Next round’s on me!” Dalish shouted.

 

\---

 

“We learned Tevene on the boat over,” Felix said. “They had a Tamassran on board that they kept to teach new slaves. It took a few years before we were completely fluent, but you’d be surprised how much you can learn in a few weeks when you’ve got nothing else to do except let people hit you.”

“Fucking Shems,” Skinner said.

“Bastards,” Krem said.

“It wouldn’t have been so bad, but we weren’t supposed to speak our native tongue. Dorian resented that, so any time one of the guards spoke to him, he’d speak very sweetly in Qunlat, but all he was really doing was swearing at them,” Felix said. “Problem was _they_ understood Qunlat, and they didn’t like what he was saying.”

“Huh,” Bull said. “So he’s…”

“Yes, he’s always been like that,” Felix replied.

 

\---

 

“So you’re like brothers?” Skinner asked.

“Qunari don’t have brothers,” Bull said, forgetting.

“Thank the Maker,” Felix replied.

 

\---

 

“So the guy says… He says… I think my wife’s having it on with the milkman, it’s breaking my heart, I need to know… And I’m like, right mate, you point out your wife, and I’ll sort it out, no problems,” Krem paused, making sure everyone was listening.

They were.

“It’s the girl from last night,” Krem waited for the chorus of booing to die down. “Poor bastard, didn’t have the heart to tell him, just let him know she wasn’t having it on with the _milk_ man.”

“That’s so sad,” Felix said.

“Wait for it,” Krem said, stopping to finish off his drink. “Found out a year later he’d skipped town; he’d had enough and went and eloped with the same bloody milkman!”

Everyone cheered.

 

\---

 

“How many of these have I had?” Felix asked, looking into the bottom of his glass.

 

\---

 

“I hate you all very much,” Dorian said, when he found them all in the Tavern at one in the morning.

 

\---

 

And then he said, “You do remember the Inquisitor wants us to go to the Storm Coast in the morning, yes?”

Bull closed his eye and groaned. When he opened it again the room was spinning.

“Too many ‘Vints,” Krem said, lying face down on the table.


	4. Nothing is extinguished or forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all the lovers out there

Felix woke with a dry mouth and a headache. He was alone in his bed, Dorian having gone to sleep on their sofa. Felix thought the offending party should be the one to be refused regular comforts, but Dorian had been insistent. Had been ever since Lady Arida had died and he had… well.

Dorian opened the curtains, and Felix moaned like a dying bear.

“ _Serves you right_ ,” Dorian said, sitting down at his dressing table. _“Going out carousing at all hours of the night, with mercenaries! And to think I was worried about you_.”

Felix whined pathetically.

“ _You are alright, aren’t you_?” Dorian asked.

Felix cracked an eyelid and saw that Dorian was looking at him, hands clenched around his hair-comb. He was frowning, lips pursed in the way they did whenever Dorian was feeling cranky and guilty at the same time. It wasn’t a rare look on him. Wasn’t a bad one, either, not that Felix would ever admit it.

“ _My dear, sweet love. Light of my life, joy of my heart._ ” Felix said. “ _I’m hung over as shit._ ”

“ _You’re not feeling faint_?” Dorian asked.

“ _No, it’s been a good week._ ”

“ _And you took your medicine last night?_ ”

“ _I did._ ”

Dorian turned in his seat, pulling his kohl from the drawer rather violently. He slapped it down on the table so loudly it rattled.

“ _Dorian_?” Felix asked.

“ _I am mad at you._ ” Dorian said, applying his eyeliner like it had offended him.

“ _I’m very sorry,_ ” Felix said. “ _Honestly, all I intended to do was tell Bull to back off… I was just trying to be friendly about it._ ”

Dorian muttered something about ditches, under his breath. Felix rolled out of bed slowly, groaning lightly as his head protested the movement. He stumbled over to Dorian, resting his hands on his shoulders and kissing him on the crown.

“ _You’ll mess up my hair_ ,” Dorian said primly.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Felix said, skirting around Dorian’s horns so he could kiss him just behind his ear.

Dorian stilled, meeting Felix’s eyes in the mirror.

“ _I really am sorry, please don’t leave angry,_ ” Felix said. “ _What can I do to make it up to you_?”

He kissed the line of Dorian’s throat, and Dorian shivered.

“ _Felix… are you trying to seduce me_?”

“ _Little bit._ ”

“ _You’re a bad man_.”

“ _Only for you, my love_.”

Dorian’s face broke into a smile, and they both snickered, still looking at each-other through the mirror. Dorian raised his hand to Felix’s cheek and stroked it.

“ _I’m going to be late_ ,” Dorian said.

“ _I’ll make it worth it,_ ” Felix replied.

 

\---

 

“Good morning, everyone!” Dorian said, walking into the stables with a spring in his step.

Bull found his cheeriness offensive.

“Where have you been?” Ink asked, standing about with a set of reins in each hand. She’d picked their horses an hour before, and they’d been saddled for about half of that.

“I was unavoidably delayed, and for that I apologize, my dear Inquisitor,” Dorian said, bowing slightly over steepled hands.  

“How are you in such a good mood?” Bull asked. “You must’ve had less sleep than I did…”

“I did,” Dorian said brightly. “But, it’s a beautiful day and I plan to make the best of it.”

Bull heard Ink snort, but when he turned to look at her, her face was smooth. She shrugged her shoulders as Bull looked at her blearily.

“Alright, this is a milk run. We’re doing some simple requisitions and doing some team building,” Ink said. “It’s going to be fun.”

“Huh, wonder if anyone’s going to call this cronyism, having a team full of Kossith,” Bull said wryly.

“But it won’t be!” Ink said.

“Who’s our fourth?” Dorian asked.

 

\---

 

“So, do those horns scale with anything, or is it just random?” Sera asked.

Dorian looked at her, mouth agape.

“It really is a nice day,” Bull said, shaking in his saddle.

 

\---

 

“Seriously though, if you’ve got big horns have you got a big…” Sera said quietly, as they sat by the campfire.

She held her hands widely apart. Dorian pushed them closer together.

“Sera, I don’t have much basis for comparison,” Dorian said. “I don’t know that many Kossith to begin with.”

“You haven’t seen Bull’s?” She asked.

Dorian flinched so hard he almost fell off his log.

“No!” He said.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“I thought everyone’d seen it.”

“Well I have not.”

“I’ve seen it.”

Her hands started to spread further out again, and Dorian covered them with his own out of self-preservation. Sera leered at him from under her asymmetric fringe.

“How about that other one? The one what looks like a sheep?”

“You mean Felix? The man I’ve spent twenty years with, most of them in indentured servitude.”

“Yeah, him.”

“I’m sure he’s of a proportionate size,” Dorian said.

Sera’s grin got lewder, which Dorian had not thought possible. Dorian glanced around camp, only to see that Bull had already retired and Ink was busy oiling a saddle.

“Oh, fine,” He said, and nudged Sera’s hands until they were about the right distance apart.

She raised her brows at him and bit her lip.

“Nice,” She said, and Dorian laughed.

 

\---

 

Felix had always kept notes where he could. They weren’t quite journals (Alexius wouldn’t have liked it), they were more like a collation of letters, of things he’d found important. He still had some from when he’d first learned to write in Tevene; little scribbles and drawings, most of them with Dorian standing by his side. There are also a few letters from his teenage years, when Alexius would take him travelling, and keep him standing to his left and a few steps behind.

Family had been an abstract concept then, but he’d thought that was how Alexius saw him. In retrospect he’d been more like a well-trained, rare breed of dog. There hadn’t been any other magister in the Imperium with a Kossith for a bodyguard, let alone one that was a mage himself.

He’d kept up the practice of making records for more academic reasons, and lately some pragmatic ones as well. Felix knew he was a rare specimen, and he did not want to waste the opportunity he had, bitter though it was, if he might help someone else down the line.

_Examination using protocol 2.2 (Appendix C) revealed a 5-10% increase in the size of the cysts on the subject’s lungs. There has been no increase in the number of cysts since the commencement of the current treatment plan (Appendix H). Blight remains contained within the chest cavity, although subject has experienced intermittent muscle pain in his lower back. This symptom may be unrelated, but will be monitored._

_Subject consumed an indeterminate number of flagons of beer, on the evening prior to this examination. As a result, subject woke up feeling like death, but found his day improved after inappropriately, and consensually, interfering with the love of his life. Subject received promise of future reciprocation, which he is looking forward to._

He left the more colourful commentary out of the copy he made for Bull, but he had to get his kicks somewhere. What was the point in being the first Kossith to get the Blight in centuries, if he couldn’t have a little fun with it?

 

\---

 

Ink was dozing in her saddle, breath whistling past her teeth. It sounded a lot like a sparrow chirping. Whenever she started doing it, Bull would draw level with her, ready to grab her by the cowl should she start to lose her seat. He never tried to wake her, and the first and only time Sera’d tried to prank Ink during, he’d glared her down so hard she’d refused to speak with him for the rest of the day.

Dorian had fretted over it at first, still unhappy with a Ben Hassrath agent so close to a mage, but Bull had yet to do anything but stand guard. Ink and Bull were a study in contrasts in many ways. Ink, with her long, white hair shining in the sun, her horns pointing back in an elegant wave; Bull as solid as a mountain compared to her, the only Qunari Dorian had ever met with naturally dark hair.

It was strangely uncomfortable to spend so much time in close quarters with other Kossith. Strange because Dorian couldn’t put his finger on exactly why he found it so. Dorian _liked_ Ink. She was clever and kind and competent; all qualities he valued. Even Bull, now that Dorian was less actively afraid of him, was no more offensive to his sensibilities than any other soldier. He didn’t feel the same unease with Sera, and she was about as different from him as it were possible for a person to be.

Dorian didn’t know, but had some educated guesses about his wariness, though. They made him feel dirty, and ashamed.

_Ungrateful, faithless beast!_

He’d spent vast swathes of his childhood without seeing any Kossith other than Felix, and often not even him, when Alexius was on sabbatical. If Dorian hated the Qunari, he hadn’t been the only one. Not in Tevinter. And they hadn’t known well enough to see he wasn’t one.

Maybe that was _why_ he felt comfortable with Sera. They shared damage, and neither of them was quite ready to give it up.

 

\---

 

Dorian hated the Storm Coast. He seemed to be the only one.

“You know, I’m trying hard not to get a kick out of this,” Bull said, watching as Ink and Sera frolicked about in the rain.

And it was frolicking. There was far too much giggling involved, and splashing seawater about from where they stood in the shallows. Every now and then a larger wave would come by and drench them, and they’d squeal. They’d stripped down to shirts and pants, the linen clinging to their bodies and surely being damaged by the salt.

“Trying real hard,” Bull said.

“You disgust me,” Dorian said. “You’re old enough to be her father.”

Bull slapped Dorian on the back, the blow stinging even through his oilskin. Dorian glared at him. Bull grinned back, rain dripping down his face and making him look just a little shiny.

“I didn’t say I wanted to be involved, I’m just saying, watching them flirt is a little inspiring.”

Bull wiggled his eyebrows, and Dorian was torn between hysterical laughter and mortal offence. He looked over at the girls… at his _employer_ and his _colleague_ , and didn’t see more than-

Ink had her arms around Sera, Sera’s hands cupping her face, their foreheads pressed together as they laughed with one another. Dorian felt a bittersweet swell in his chest. Miserable though he was, he couldn’t help smiling. He’d been young once, and falling swiftly in love for the first time. It had been blissful when they were together; torture when they were apart. To see someone else about to walk into the same, if they were half lucky, well, it was something.

“What’s with that look on your face?” Bull asked, sombre and slightly mistrustful.

“Allow an old man his recollections,” Dorian said, hooking his fingers over Bull’s horn and turning him towards camp with a surprised squawk.

 

\---

 

There weren’t many people Ink’s age at Skyhold, not ones she could talk to. Most of them were under her direct command, which made her uncomfortable, or they were Josephine. Josephine was lovely, assuredly, but she also made it her daily business to save Ink from social and financial ruin, which made her an infinitely powerful god. The pressure there was enough to make Ink break out in a cold sweat, so she’d never let her interest become more than passing.

Sera, though.

“So I was thinking, when we get back, we should put a frog in Cullen’s desk and see what happens.”

“But that’s mean to the frog,” Ink replied, chuckling a little anyway.

Sera sat up from her place, curled into Ink’s side. She rested her chin on her hand and smiled down. Her hair was still damp, but the rest of her was dry and pink. Her skin was dusted with freckles in all the places not covered by her clothes. Ink trailed her finger down Sera’s shoulder, following Sera’s tan line.

“How about a mouse, then?” Sera asked. “It’ll just run away.”

“Hm, better,” Ink replied, leaning up on her elbows enough that she could give Sera a gentle kiss.

Sera smiled into it, letting it be short and sweet. When Ink laid back, she followed, tucking herself in close, pressing her lips to Ink’s collar bone. The rain was still loud on their tent, the cool of it slowly sinking through their combined heat. It felt nice.

“I like you,” Sera said, her voice thready where it was normally firm with confidence.

“I like you too,” Ink said.

Sera made her happy. Made her feel good and alive, and so, so happy.

 

\---

 

“So, you and Sera,” Bull said.

Ink opened her mouth to answer him, but all he got out of her was a giggle. She sounded more carefree than he’d ever heard her.

“Nice catch,” Bull said, and meant it.

“Thanks,” Ink said.

She glanced behind her, where Dorian and Sera were lingering behind, absorbed in their own conversation. Bull could only hear snippets of it, but it seemed to be about swearing in Tevene.

“I was thinking…” Ink said, trailing off. “I wanted to do something, to show her I’m serious. Do you have any ideas?”

“With Sera? Hard to say, she’s all about action, and anything she wants, she takes in short order,” Bull replied. “You’d know what she likes as well as anyone.”

Ink hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She looked behind herself again, and waved.

“I might ask Dorian,” She said.

“Best of luck to you,” Bull said, wondering just exactly what strange Tevinter courtship rituals Dorian had internalized, and would pass on.

 

\---

 

“So there’s books full of dirty pictures and you can just buy them anywhere,” Sera said, surprise heavy in her voice.

“Not _any_ where, but yes, Tevinter has a long and scandalous history of printing sex manuals. Including ones that would be of direct interest to you and your paramour.”

“My what?”

“The Inquisitor.”

“Why not just say that then?”

“Why drink wine when you could have water?”

“I like both those things,” Sera said, almost primly.

Dorian couldn’t help but laugh.

“But anyway, what should I do, if I wanted to get one of those dirty sex books?” Sera asked.

Dorian thought about just how painful it would be to requisition such a thing. Then he thought about the first time he and Felix had got their hands on one. They’d barely been able to move the next day.

And though he had no desire to think about the Inquisitor _or_ Sera in a sexual capacity, he did want them to be as happy as they could be. Would that he’d been able to be as open about Felix, when they were young. Would that he could be so open _now_.

“I’ll look into it for you,” Dorian said, resigned.

Sera laughed like an imp, and Dorian pretended he didn’t like it.


	5. The ties between us

_Examination using protocol 5.1 (Appendix C), with assistance from a rune-crafted ring (Appendix N) showed presence of small lesions on subject’s kidneys. There has also been an increase in the number of cysts on subject’s lungs (Table 14). Subject is commencing trial of altered treatment program (Appendix H). Subject has experienced spells of dizziness during the mornings, but overall quality of life is good._

Bull hadn’t minded reading Felix’s reports back when he didn’t know the guy. He’d felt a lot of admiration for him, honestly, trying to make the best of a bad situation, and leaving something behind to help people. It took a lot of guts to stare down death, and take notes while it crawled closer to you.

It felt different after they’d become drinking buddies. He wasn’t sitting down next to a resource. He was sitting down next to Felix, who was polite to the tavern girls no matter how drunk he got, and worked hard at seeming unintimidating, which was no easy task when you were tall, burly and had horns.

Although, he wasn’t looking as burly as he used to. It wasn’t too noticeable, but Felix was losing weight. Bull had seen people die before, some slower than others, but he’d never had to wait it out so long. He could admit to himself that it made him uncomfortable. Felix was a strange, _almost_ -Qunari, and Bull liked him.

So, when the higher ups sent word that they wanted Bull to get a hold of Felix’s body after he died, Bull had to burn five letters before he found a polite-enough way to tell them to fuck off.

It shouldn’t have mattered, once you were dead, you were dead. There was nothing truly left. But he knew Felix wouldn’t want to be cut up and preserved, and he wasn’t about to disrespect a final wish.

 

\---

 

“Weirdest place you’ve ever done it,” Bull said, slurring a little.

“In a theatre,” Krem said, holding a finger up when Dalish scoffed at him. “ _While_ a play was on.”

“Next to a chantry, underneath a statue of Andraste,” Skinner said.

“In a tree,” Dalish said.

“In Antiva,” Rocky said, sadly.

They all looked at Felix, who blinked at them. It was a little lopsided, he got a bit uncoordinated when he was drunk.

“I’m not telling you,” Felix said, mildly affronted. “You’ll be weird about it.”

“I once did it on a roof,” Bull said. “It was sloped, too. We almost fell off. How could you top that, come on?”

“Nuh huh, you’ll just be mean and I’ll never hear the end of it, so no,” Felix said, taking another sip of his beer, only to find it was empty.

“I once had sex in a Necropolis,” Grim said.

Bull stared at Grim. Everyone stared at Grim. Grim stared at something only Grim could see.

“It… it was a magister’s bedroom,” Felix said, breaking the silence. “We had sex in a magister’s bedroom, in the bed.”

Krem laughed so hard he near fell out of his seat. Skinner stumbled up from her seat, stole a mug of beer from the closest server, and slapped it down in front of Felix.

“How are you not dead?” Krem asked, not for the first time that evening.

“I can’t believe doing it in a bed beats us all out, but it really does,” Bull said.

Felix, for his part, was looking very bashful about the whole thing. His pale cheeks were dark with it.

“Well, you know, we were young and we’d never really had space to roll around in, so…”

“You are a dark horse, my friend,” Krem said.

“Was it any good?” Dalish asked.

Felix rubbed a hand behind his neck, and said, “Yes, yes it was.”

 

\---

 

Dorian would always think he was over it, and then it would come back full force. His fear was a tide that swelled and ebbed. He just had to tread water when it was high.

“Alright, I’ve got to ask,” Bull said, as they hiked through the Emerald Graves. “You and Felix…”

Dorian held his breath for a moment, reflexively.

“What’s with the shirts?”

“What?” Dorian asked, confused.

“Remember the old phrase, _running around with his shirt caught on his horns_ ; that never happen to you?”

Dorian hadn’t heard Qunlat spoken in a while. It tended to give him mixed feelings, because it had been his first language, but his relationship with it ended at one of the worst periods in his life. His more vivid memories of it involved screaming, and orders, and the voyage to Tevinter. Sometimes he remembered his Tama singing to him, instead. That wasn’t the case now.

“The maker invented buttons, you know,” Dorian said, though it sounded a bit too weak to his ears.

“You alright?” Bull asked.

His voice was a bit softer than it normally was. That was the part that made him most uncomfortable. Dorian didn’t like it when Bull showed him consideration. It made Dorian feel guilty for the distance he tried to keep between them.

Dorian had a hand over his lips, touching his scars. He dropped it down, embarrassed.

“I’m fine,” Dorian said.

“That’s good,” Bull said mildly.

Bull was trying, really, to make him feel included, and safe. Dorian was fairly sure it hadn’t anything to do with him specifically, but more their place in the Inquisition as colleagues. Perhaps Felix, as well, since they’d become friends. Felix was so good at making friends, something Dorian was less inclined to.

Dorian heard Bull sigh, and felt ashamed.

 

\---

 

Sometimes Bull couldn’t help but look at the scars. They weren’t that glaring, but they were noticeable. He knew they bothered Dorian, it would be stranger if they didn’t, given the value Dorian placed on his appearance. Bull was covered in scars, but he liked being that way. He’d earned each one, and they all had stories. He lost an eye, and gained a lieutenant; fought a dragon and gained a vicious-looking claw mark.

Dorian only had the lines that crossed his lips, and they came with a story you don’t tell during a night at the tavern. That’s where the difference was. Dorian didn’t choose. Didn’t get much of an option to choose anything, right up until the point where he torched his own life because it was the right thing to do.

Bull knew that, in Dorian’s eyes, Bull’s entire person represented that powerlessness. It didn’t matter that he’d held back, been careful to treat Dorian with no more or less amicability than he did others. Dorian was one of those people that was better off without the Qun. Too individualistic, even ignoring his magic.

He was striking to look at, though.

“You keep to circular movements, when you’re on the backfoot,” Dorian said, standing a good few feet away from the fire.

He’d cleared a space to show Ink some forms, as a way to help pass the time. It wasn’t wise to move at night, but there were still a few hours to kill between evening and going to rest. Sera spent it fiddling with her kit and staring at her girlfriend. Bull tended to write reports, but this was more interesting. Dorian had taken the top part of his robes off.

“If your opponent tries to back you into a corner, moving like this makes it easier to get around them, maybe even gain some high ground,” Dorian said.

He demonstrated, adjusting his grip on his staff to give himself more reach, body facing Ink while he walked around her. He moved slowly so she could see the way he placed his feet.

“Whenever you parry, follow the motion through into a counterstrike,” Dorian said. “Never use fire or lightning in close quarters; unless you have room to manoeuvre; you run the risk of affecting your own sight. It’s generally better to stick to ice, unless you have a strategy in place.”

He swung the staff in smooth, slow arcs, demonstrating jabs and blocks. It made his back muscles looked amazing. Most southern mages were a bit soft, used to relying on magic they hadn’t been allowed to use very often, prior to the rebellion. Dorian had clearly been honed into what he was.

“Do you want to try it?” Dorian asked, and Ink nodded.

Bull felt Sera sneaking up behind him. He let her get within two feet before turning his eye on her. She was holding a pan of water above her head, eyes wide.

“Y’alright?” She asked.

“Pretty good so long as I stay dry,” Bull replied.

Sera huffed and put the pan down, stepping forward until she and Bull were level, before dropping into crossed legs.

“What are you up to?” She asked.

“Watching the dinner show,” Bull said, allowing himself a chuckle for a joke only he’d understand.

“Hmm,” Sera said. “I’d say ‘you better be looking at Dorian’, but you’re in for it either way.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t got an agenda with either of them.”

“You wot?”

“You should know how your team moves,” Bull explained. “Makes it easier to predict them when you’re fighting, get a better handle on when they need your help. That’s why I’m watching.”

“This is my believing you face,” Sera said, pointing at herself.

“Hey, I’m allowed to appreciate the view at the same time,” Bull said.

Sera chuckled, and it was just a little more gleeful than normal.

“What’s up with you?” Bull asked.

“Nothin’,” Sera replied, smirking at him.

 

\---

 

“So,” Ink said.

“So.” Josephine replied.

“We are going to sort out things in Orlais by going to a Ball.”

“Yes,” Josephine replied.

“And if I show any signs of weakness, or use the wrong fork, or forget someone’s name… It might lead to the literal end of the world,” Ink said.

Josephine smiled weakly, holding her pen up for a moment before lowering her hand again.

“Well,” She said.

“Yes.” Leliana said.

 

\---

 

“How about a stiff drink?”

Felix glared at Dorian from his spot next to Ink, sitting on their sofa. He had his arm companionably around her.

“Dorian, _no_ ,” Felix said. “And you don’t need to worry quite so much. I promise you, novelty forgives all manner of sins. How do you think we made it to adulthood?”

Ink looked up at Felix, and then at Dorian, misery still plain on her face. Dorian huffed quietly, and grabbed pulled his own chair away from his desk. He turned it around and sat himself down, so he was close enough to take Ink’s hands.

“Alright, let us forget the details for now, let’s talk bigger picture,” Dorian said. “What do you want to happen? Who do you want to succeed at the Game?”

Ink thought about it for a moment, sighing as she stopped herself from speaking. She shook her head.

“I don’t want an expansionist on the throne,” Ink said. “Although, I’ve heard some pretty awful things about the Empress.”

“Any other options?” Felix asked.

“Not exactly,” Ink said.

“Alright, let’s assume you’re working with Empress Celene,” Dorian said. “If that’s the case, you’ll be bringing Madame de Fer along.”

“Don’t bring Solas,” Felix said, voice flat.

Dorian couldn’t help a small sound of disgust escaping him. He did not like Solas.

_Now that you are free of Tevinter, why do you still dress in their clothes?_

Prick.

“Why not Solas?” Ink asked.

“Either they won’t talk to him or they will,” Felix said.

“And if that happens, he’ll walk right over the Game and stomp on it,” Dorian continued. “It might impress them, but it probably won’t.”

“Sera would be helpful, she’ll ignore the rules too, but she has contacts, and she cares about the underdog. She could get you information where others could not.”

“Cassandra would be an excellent choice, given her lineage,” Dorian said. “Varric is a noble and a very popular writer, so you might achieve some approval there. Cole… Well, so long as no one knows he is there, bring Cole. Do not bring Blackwall.”

“I wouldn’t bring Blackwall,” Felix said.

Ink looked between the two of them, as if she were waiting for something else. When it didn’t arrive, she spoke again.

“What about you two?” She asked. “Or Iron Bull.”

Dorian waved his hand.

“You’re already going, you don’t want to bring more of us along, the Orlesians won’t much care for it.”

“But you know what it’s like, to be a Kossith in a place like that,” Ink said. “You could help me.”

“Bull at least runs a successful mercenary company,” Felix said. “Ink, we belong to a disgraced Tevinter magister. We don’t even have last _names_.”

Ink was beginning to look a little teary, and Dorian wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it. Ink had come to them, ostensibly, for advice, but what she really needed was comfort. Unfortunately, he could only do the former truthfully if he were more sparing with the latter.

“You don’t belong to him anymore,” Ink said, quietly. “Don’t speak that way.”

Dorian exchanged a pained look with Felix.

“Ink…” Felix said. “Tevinter…”

“We sound like ‘Vints,” Dorian said. “It would be obvious what we are. Were.”

“It’s illegal in Orlais,” Ink said.

“Nobles still keep elven slaves,” Felix replied. “They’re not too offended by the practice.”

“And, honestly, if they take a look at my face, it will be a talking point,” Dorian said. “Not a helpful one.”

Felix reached out with his free hand to take hold of Dorian’s. He rubbed his thumb over Dorian’s knuckles, face lined with sorrow. They both remembered their early days in Tevinter, when they’d both been exhibits of a sort, and Dorian’s healing face had been a popular document to Qunari depravity.

“Take Bull with you, and Madame de Fer,” Felix said. “They’re both adept at handling people and their expectations, they like each-other…”

“They like you,” Dorian said.

“Anything you want to know in the meantime, we can tell you,” Felix said. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

“Do you know anything about dancing?” Ink asked, still nervous.

“Sadly, yes,” Dorian replied.

 

\---

 

Dorian went to Halamshiral, in the end, but he didn’t go to the Ball. Instead he spent the lead up coaching her on how to cope with upper-class humans. It was an ugly business.

“They won’t think of you as a person,” Dorian said. “Not the same calibre of person, at any rate. You’re protected, somewhat, by status, but if they think you don’t have power, they will be ruthless.”

He refused to have their conversations where Madame de Fer or Bull could hear. Madame had her own perspective on the Game, and so did Bull. Talking all at once would just muddle the message. Some things needed to be spoken of quietly, privately.

“Should I try not to smile?” Ink asked.

“It’s more important that you keep good posture, make them crane up to look at you, don’t bend down. If you do that, it will matter less what expression you have, because you will be more dominant in the conversation.”

“Will they know what I’m doing?”

“Orlesians? Yes. Do it anyway. Deflect if you get asked something particularly coarse, do it the right way and your opponent will look ignorant. Otherwise, be honest but mildly complementary.”

“What sort of questions did people used to ask you?” Ink said.

_Were you awake when they sewed your mouth shut?_

“I can promise they will be less bald with you,” Dorian said. “But there tended to be inquiries about the horns, and how it was that I could read.”

There was a knock on the door to Ink’s chambers. Dorian fussed for a moment over Ink’s sash, before leaving her be to open the door. Madame de Fer was behind it, wearing the same uniform as everybody else and managing to look as if it didn’t offend her sensibilities. When she saw Dorian she cocked a brow.

“How nice to see you, Darling,” She said. “I thought this was our lady Inquisitor’s quarters.”

“You know it is,” Dorian replied, stepping aside for her.

“Then why are you answering the door?” She asked.

“It must be force of habit,” Dorian said lightly.

Ink was still sitting on her bed, wringing her hands a little. Madame de Fer softened slightly.

“Come, Darling, if we leave now we’ll be just punctual enough,” She said.

“Will you be here, afterwards?” Ink asked. “When we get back.”

“I will wait for you as the flower does the rain,” Dorian said.

Ink hugged him, right in front of Madame de Fer. Dorian patted her back, gently.

“Panahedan,” He whispered, and Ink pulled back to smile at him.

“Thanks,” Ink said.

“I know you’ll do well,” Dorian replied. “I’ll see you when you get back, good luck to you both.”

Madame de Fer nodded at him as she led Ink out of her room, away and towards the carriage that would take her to the Imperial Ball. Dorian locked her door behind him, walking back to his own quarters, so he could settle in with a book, and wait.

 

\---

 

That night, Bull kissed him.


	6. Faithful, faithless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't want to leave you waiting too long after the last one. This arc should be resolved a chapter or so from now.

 

Dorian wound up waiting by the window, eyes down on the street as he looked for a carriage with Skyhold’s livery on it. The ache in his chest was a familiar one, though the last time he’d felt it, it had been for Felix. He’d spent large parts of his life waiting for Felix to come back to him, but he’d gotten out of practice since they’d moved to Skyhold. Or perhaps more easily distracted by his work.

There was no work to do in Halamshiral. Only a very unhelpful text on Tevinter genealogy; that had turned out to be both inaccurate and from the wrong time period. He was going to have words with Josephine about her sources, one of them was trying to fleece her.

Dorian heard the clatter of hooves on cobbles and craned his head out the window. The carriage that came into view had flags in silver and green. Dorian huffed, carefully lowering his head so he wouldn’t knock his horns against the glass, as he moved back inside.

He moved slowly enough that he saw the second carriage behind the first one, swathed in red and blue. He bumped the crown of his head on the window frame, and then he ran to the door.

 

\---

 

Ink near jumped into Dorian’s arms once she was out of the carriage. Dorian closed his eyes tight once he had his arms around her, and Bull knew he wasn’t imagining the sigh of relief that fell from the other man’s lips. Beside him Ma’am huffed in mild annoyance.

“So dramatic,” She said tiredly.

“Let them have their moment, Ma’am,” Bull said. “Most people have a less intense introduction to Orlesian politics.”

“This is hardly appropriate behaviour while we’re outside for all the world to see,” Ma’am replied.

She’d held it together all night, but now that she was out of the carriage, Ink’s back was hitching, Dorian hushing her gently under his breath. Bull heard her speaking quietly, though stiltedly, in Qunlat.

“ _Awful people, they were all such awful people,”_ Ink said. 

Dorian’s replies were accented and a little hesitant, but he put the effort in all the same.

“ _I’m so proud of you_ ,” Dorian said. “ _You were so brave_.”

Bull didn’t need to be who he was to see that Dorian was speaking to Ink, but part of him was far away, entrenched in his own history. It was almost shocking, to see so unguarded an expression on Dorian’s face, when he was always trying to obfuscate his own discomfort. Ink pulled away from him slowly.

The second carriage arrived, and she began to rally herself, wiping her cheeks and taking a deep breath. Dorian watched her with a wistful expression, drawing himself up as Sera leapt out of the carriage, followed shortly by Josephine and Cullen. Leliana was off somewhere, probably. Bull didn’t know where, and he didn’t care to antagonize her by finding out.

“We’re off to bed,” Sera said, kissing Ink on the cheek before tugging her inside without another word.

Ink waved to them all though, she was polite that way.

“Anyone want a drink?” Bull asked.

“Yes, please,” Ma’am said.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Dorian said, bowing Tevinter style.

Bull took him by the bicep before he could walk away.

“You too, ‘Vint,” Bull said.

“Thank you for noticing that,” Dorian said wryly.

 

\---

 

The Sommelier of their lodgings was still up, for some forsaken reason, so he brought them a selection from the house reserves. Dorian took one look at them and said, in a flat, displeased voice, “No.”

“Uh, Sir?” The Sommelier said, somewhat confused at being addressed by Dorian instead of anyone other than Bull. He also seemed physically intimidated, by the way he was hunching up.

“Nothing from Ghislain,” Dorian said, nose scrunching up. “Or… Serault, really?”

The Sommelier blushed.

“Anything from Claose, 30 or 35 Dragon will be acceptable, a Belle Vine would be preferable,” The Sommelier began gesturing towards a bottle.

“Not that one,” Ma’am said, sounding approving. “It’s spoiled.”

“I think that was the most brutal thing I’ve seen tonight,” Cullen said, after the Sommelier slunk off.

“Shouldn’t have brought out a Serault,” Josephine said quietly.

 

\---

 

“I thought you didn’t approve of that sort of behaviour, Dorian,” Ma’am said, once they were situated with more acceptable vintages.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Dorian replied. “Besides, that earlier selection? He was insulting you too.”

Bull couldn’t tell the fucking difference, but Josephine looked quite pleased. Cullen was quietly working his way through a bottle of white, seemingly hoping no one would notice how quickly he was clearing glasses.

“True, but I would have been more delicate about it.”

“Madame de Fer can afford to be delicate about it.”

Ma’am smiled lightly, lifting her glass, possibly in agreement. She swirled her wine, taking a moment to smell it. Dorian did the same. Bull reached for the closest bottle on the table.

“Not that one if you would. If you’re going to scull it, take the one to the left,” Dorian said.

Bull groaned, but obliged. Josephine sighed happily, as if half the table weren’t verbally sparring while the other half tried to get blasted. She was drinking a rosé. It was pink.

“Oh, I couldn’t touch a drop while we were at the Ball,” She said. “This is lovely.”

“I suppose I should avoid asking about the war…” Dorian said, very tentatively.

“Such a wonderful vintage,” Josephine said, smiling gamely.

“Cin cin,” Dorian replied, raising his glass.

 

\---

 

The Sommelier gave up on them quickly, and with some sweet-talking from Cullen released the key to the main cellar. Cullen brought up a few bottles, swaddled in his cloak.

“Alright,” he said, wrapping one of them in a cloth napkin. “What’s this one?”

He pulled the cork and poured a glass from his seat. Dorian took it, and sniffed once.

“Nevarra, Silent Plains, Sante ’39,” Dorian said.

Cullen looked at him with awe and horror.

“The cork was stamped,” Dorian said repentantly. “Saw it when you brought the bottle over. Sorry Commander.”

“That’s mine,” Bull said, taking the bottle from Cullen’s grip.

Dorian sipped his wine demurely. He nodded his head from side to side, something Bull saw Felix do all the time, before sighing.

“A few degrees of latitude makes such a big difference,” He said sadly.

Ma’am took his glass from him and threw its contents out the window behind her. She then pushed the remaining bottle of Belle Vine ’30 towards him. Dorian looked surprised, and touched. Also a little drunk.

“How did you learn so much about wine?” Josephine asked.

Bull thought it was a testament to her that she emphasized the word ‘much’ over any other. Dorian noticed too, and his shoulders relaxed just a little more than they had been.

“Not from Alexius,” He said. “Another Magister taught me, actually.”

“Who?” Cullen asked.

“The current Magister Tilani,” Dorian replied.

“ _Magister Tilani_ ,” Cullen said.

“Have you met her?” Dorian asked. “She’s lovely, isn’t she? Wonderful dresser.”

A tipsy Dorian was so much looser than the usual one. Bull hadn’t been aware he knew _anyone_ in Tevinter, aside from Felix and Alexius. He played his cards too close to the chest to let anyone know, and Felix wasn’t particularly open either. From the look on Josephine and Cullen’s faces, they were a bit surprised too. Ma’am wasn’t, but she wasn’t the sort to let it show eitherway.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Bull said. “How did _you_ , a slave with horns, become friends with a _Magister_?”

Dorian wiped out his glass and poured himself a fresh one.

“She used to use Alexius’ library, particularly when he was away,” Dorian said. “I managed his collection, so we’d talk a bit.”

Dorian took a sip of his wine while everyone else digested that piece of information. Josephine and Cullen seemed a little disappointed, but Bull knew something else was coming. Dorian waited until Cullen was taking a sip, before speaking again.

“She also used to babysit me,” He said.

Cullen spat wine all over the table. Bull saw Dorian laugh properly for the first time, directly afterwards.

 

\---

 

Cullen retired eventually, in self-defence. Ma’am pledged a need for beauty sleep, patting Bull on the shoulder as she went. Bull pretended it didn’t make him almost blissfully happy. They were surrounded by empty bottles, but Dorian and Bull were pressed together on one side of the table with a bottle of red between them, and Josephine was working through her nth glass of rosé with no change to her complexion, manner or posture.

Josephine was going to outlast all of them.

“So, heard your sister was at the party,” Bull said. “Nice to catch up?”

“She is going to elope with someone unsuitable the minute I take my eye off her,” Josephine said.

“Would that truly be so terrible?” Dorian asked.

Bull knew he was a romantic.

“The last prospect was an actor,” Josephine said balefully.

“Ugh,” Dorian replied.

“Put her in a tower for a while, that’s what nobles do, right?” Bull said.

Josephine giggled, Dorian huffed and rolled his eyes.

“I actually had a job like that once,” Bull said. “Boy got shoved up in a tower for trying to run off with the wrong girl. Paid us to get him out.”

“That sounds like a lie,” Dorian said, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Jaded,” Bull replied. “All of this is true. He was human, real short guy, skinny too. Fell in love with a dwarf, I think she was casteless… Anyway, they started out just locking him in rooms, but he kept getting out. Wiley guy. When they got sick of that, they pushed him into an unused part of their holdings with a month’s supply of jerky and oranges, and then bricked up the door.”

“How dreadful,” Josephine said, enthralled.

It wasn’t difficult to see how she’d been a bard once. Wasn’t difficult to see why she’d left, either.

“Had to get Skinner to start a fire to distract everyone in the keep, then we had Rocky to blow a hole in the South side. Got in and out before anyone knew we were there.”

“What happened to him?” Josephine asked.

“They got married. Managed to have two kids,” Bull said. “They send letters sometimes.”

“Aw,” Dorian said, smiling.

 

\---

 

“Weirdest place you’ve ever done it,” Bull said.

“No.” Dorian said.

“How about you, Bull?” Josephine asked.

“No!” Dorian said.

 

\---

 

Dorian wound up staggering towards his room, an arm around Bull’s shoulders to stop them both from stumbling into a wall. It worked. Mostly.

“I’m sleeping for a day, after this,” Bull said, slurring a little.

“I might do the same, and I hardly had the night you did,” Dorian replied.

Bull chuckled, squeezing Dorian’s shoulder as they slowly, slowly navigated the stairs. Dorian tripped once, but Bull pulled him up again.

“Wasn’t so bad,” Bull said. “Killed some demons.”

“You hate demons,” Dorian replied.

“Like ‘em better when they’re dead, least I made myself productive.”

“True.”

They hit Bull’s room first

“Hey,” Bull said, tugging on Dorian’s arm. “I’m glad you drank with us tonight, it was fun, you should do it again.”

Dorian ducked his head a little, bashfully, something he never would’ve allowed while sober. Unless he was with Felix.

“Maybe,” Dorian said, looking up.

Bull was closer than he had been the moment before.

“What?” Dorian asked.

Bull closed the distance between them, and Dorian stiffened a little, but a little too late. Bull’s hand dropped to his waist, and Bull dipped his head. The kiss he gave Dorian was sweet, almost chaste.

Dorian pushed him back, putting two steps between them.

“Don’t… don’t do that,” Dorian said, distress building.

“Ah, shit,” Bull said, closing his eyes so tightly they scrunched up. “Sorry, misread the situation.”

Dorian was almost shaking with it. He’d let another man touch him, and he hadn’t hated it. He was supposed to hate it. He’d always hated it whenever anyone else had approached him, before.

“Dorian, I’m sorry,” Bull said, sounding tired.

Dorian shook his head, “Don’t,” He said, as if it were the only thing he could say.

He turned, walking off down the corridor as quickly as he was able. He didn’t look back, but he did hear Bull’s sigh, barely audible, behind him.


	7. The soft line of your throat and my white teeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nnnnn I tried.

Bull didn’t push, but even as he kept his distance, Dorian wound up tighter and tighter the closer they got to Skyhold. Ma’am didn’t say anything about it, but he knew that she noticed. To his great relief she didn’t do more than level a loaded glance between the two of them, accepting the way Bull subtly shook his head. Josephine took to riding ahead with Dorian, breaking the quiet of the road with casual conversation about topics the other man was knowledgeable in.

“Are you well, Bull?” Ma’am asked, while Dorian and Josephine discussed spices.

“I’m fine, ma’am,” Bull replied.

“I see you’ve taken your leave of shirts again,” She said.

“What can I say? Some birds are meant to fly free,” Bull replied, flexing his bicep.

Ma’am chuckled softly and warmly, under her breath. She was back to dressing as she preferred, in silver and white, and horned hats. Bull was fairly sure she’d burned the uniform she’d had to wear to the ball. It seemed like the sort of thing she would do.

“I thought you might like to know, I read a rather interesting treatise while we were in Orlais,” She said.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Mmmm, it pertained to improved methods of utilizing disperse ice spells. I could see some practical applications, perhaps I could show you later?”

Bull laughed so loud that his horse flinched. Unfortunately, so did Dorian, and that was enough to quiet him again. Ma’am gave him another measured look, thoughtful but free of judgment.

“Are you quite alright, Darling?” She asked.

“Eh,” Bull said. “I know what I did to upset him, but I’m not so sure on the why.”

“Perhaps leave some space,” Ma’am said. “Although if you try looking penitent, the guilt might grow enough for him to talk to you.”

“That’s a bit _mercenary_ of you,” Bull said, letting a little warmth into his voice.

“Well, one should attempt to accommodate the company one keeps,” Ma’am replied.

 

\---

 

Dorian had planned to tell him, the minute he got home. He always told Felix when someone took liberties, just as Felix always told him. He had no secrets from Felix, had never needed any since he’d discovered that his affections had been returned, when they were young. It would be painful, but he would tell him that this time he’d only been upset after the fact, and then it would be out and over and done with. Felix would forgive him.

But, when he rode into Skyhold, feeling fear and relief, Felix was not there to greet him as he always was. Krem was there instead, waving very obviously at Dorian, and not his own boss. Dorian dismounted from his horse and handed her off to a stable hand without bothering to untie his pack. He could get it later.

Krem held his hands up as Dorian approached, and surely he didn’t look that upset?

“ _He’s fine, he had a dizzy spell this morning and fell. He hit his head on the way down, so he’s in bed resting,”_ Krem said, in Tevene. “ _Solas had a look at him, and other than a goose egg, he’s as he was.”_

Dorian bowed deeply over steepled hands, trying to keep his expression blank, mustering everything he remembered from his life before Skyhold.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Dorian replied, striding towards his room before he’d even finished speaking.

He kept to a swift walking pace until he was inside and away from prying eyes. After that he took the stairs and ran.

 

\---

 

Felix had expected Dorian to be a bit dramatic about his little tumble, but the way he burst into their room, windswept and breathing hard, was excessive even for him. He barely remembered to close the door before he spanned the distance between it and their bed, and fell to his knees on the stone floor.

“Amatus,” Dorian said, one hand over Felix’s own, the other reaching up to card through his hair. “ _I’m sorry I wasn’t here, I’m so sorry._ ”

Felix rolled his eyes fondly.

“ _You’re so dramatic, I’m fine, these things happen,_ ”

Dorian’s angry face spoke to his disagreement, but Felix knew the sentiment wasn’t directed at him. It was just Dorian taking on the weight of the world as he always did; considering it a personal failing when his knees buckled. Felix tugged him closer, but Dorian wouldn’t let him rest forehead to forehead.

“ _You have a bump on your head_ ,” Dorian said. “ _I’m not knocking you out again because you’re feeling sentimental_.”

Dorian jolted like a surprised rabbit when Solas cleared his throat from behind him. Felix covered his mouth with his fingers to hide his smile. He was pleased though, when Dorian didn’t pull their hands apart.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take my leave now you have a more adequate nursemaid,” Solas said.

He sat up from their couch, a book in his hand. Dorian tensed beside Felix. He didn’t get on with the other man, and Felix had known he wouldn’t like having his personal space invaded by him. Dorian had never allowed anyone but Ink into their home. He seemed to be accepting it, though barely, because Felix had been the cause.

“Ma serannas, Solas,” Dorian said, only slightly petulant about it.

Solas’ eyes widened a little, but he was already at the door, and Dorian was quick to guide him out of it. Solas turned once he was in the corridor, looking mildly annoyed. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Dareth shiral,” Dorian said.  

And then he closed the door.

“ _You’re a rude little shit, Dorian_ ,” Felix said. “ _He watched me all day you know, we should give him a fruit basket or something, to say thank you._ ”

Dorian knelt back on the floor again, more gently this time, and buried his face in Felix’s neck. He was shaking a little, but Felix didn’t know if it was worry over him, or upset that someone had seen them during an affectionate moment. Probably both.

“ _I’m not going out on missions anymore_ ,” Dorian said. “ _I shouldn’t have left Skyhold, for this one._ ”

Felix sighed, feeling abruptly and overwhelmingly tired.

“ _I’m going to take a nap, Dorian,_ ” Felix said, in lieu of anything else.

“ _Alright_ ,” Dorian replied, quietly.

 

\---

 

Magister Tilani had very ornate handwriting.

“I don’t… I’m not entirely sure how to read this,” Ink said.

Josephine delicately took the letter from her hands, smoothing it out against her writing board. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

“ _My Lady Inquisitor, I have heard of your efforts to curtail the Venatori, and I would like to meet with you formally,_ ” Josephine said. “ _Not all within the Magisterium agree with the Venatori’s foolish agenda. I have heard that Varric Tethras is among your retinue, and he can vouch for me. If you would allow me to visit you in your holdings, it would make quite the statement. I await your response, Sincerely, Maevaris Tilani._ ”

“Huh,” Ink said. “What do you think?”

“Sorry, my lady, there is a post script… _p.s. Please do not tell my dear Dorian, I would like my potential visit to be a surprise_.”

“A Magister is _friends_ with Dorian?” Ink asked.

“She used to babysit him,” Cullen said.

Ink looked between him and Josephine, and then back again.

“How do you know that?” Ink said.

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Cullen replied.

 

\---

 

“Dorian’s been in a shit mood,” Felix said, glaring into his beer. “He’s driving me mad.”

Bull shifted his weight a little, the biggest tell of discomfort that Felix had ever seen him make. Normally the Chargers would be drinking with them, but it was early yet, and Felix had wanted a more quiet drink than he usually had. Bull had obliged.

It was the first time Felix had been out to the tavern in a week.

“Halamshiral was intense for all of us,” Bull said.

Felix shook his head, “He’s anxious; has been since he got back. He told me he’s withdrawing from the active duty roster.”

“Oh, shit,” Bull said, closing his eye with a grimace. “I’ll talk to him.”

“What could you do about it?” Felix asked. “He’s treating me like an invalid. I don’t think Ink could talk him out of it, and he worries about her too, when she’s out.”

Bull took a drink of his beer, and the put the flagon down. There was something hangdog about him, a fatigue he usually didn’t let show.

“It’s not just you, don’t worry about it, I’ll see if I can get him back to day missions.”

“If it’s not _just_ me, what is it?” Felix asked, feeling slightly suspicious.

Bull sighed loudly, looking into the Tavern, seemingly at the far wall.

“I tried it on while we were at Halamshiral,” Bull said. “And he spooked. I’ve been trying to give him his space, but I didn’t know it bothered him that much. Haven’t seen him since then.”

“Tried it on?” Felix said.

“He’s an attractive guy,” Bull said. “And we’d been getting on well. I’m sorry for upsetting him.”

Bull turned away from his beer, back towards Felix, and his face stilled. It didn’t freeze, exactly. It just smoothed out, and became neutral. Felix knew his expression was not doing the same.

“Oh, shit,” Bull said.

“What did you do?” Felix asked.

It felt like it was someone else asking. Felix would never be so rude, so blunt. Not over a misunderstanding. He wasn’t the sort to escalate.

“I didn’t know you were an ongoing thing.”

“Dorian’s pretty fucking cagey about it, yes,” Felix said, voice growing thick. “What did _he_ do?”

“Felix…” Bull said, hands up, placating.

“Venhedis,” Felix hissed, pulling himself from his chair and throwing a coin on the table.

He stalked out of the bar, out into the courtyard, and towards the library.

 

\---

 

The library was near-empty when Felix arrived, most of the scholars and assistants preferring to work in the daylight hours. Dorian tended to stay a little later. He liked it better when it was quiet.

Felix thought it was for the best. He’d rather a smaller audience around Dorian if he was going to shout at him, although none of them would be able to understand a word of it, whether they knew the language or not. Tevene tended to sound different when spoken with high emotion and Felix was feeling pretty fucking emotional.

He found Dorian sitting in his chair, legs crossed, looking so relaxed it made Felix even angrier. Dorian didn’t look up until Felix was almost on him, and when he did he nearly dropped his book.

He looked caught. Felix had thought Dorian was worried about him, but really he was worried about Felix finding _out_. Dorian had hidden this from him, so it meant something. It _meant_ something.

“Felix?” Dorian asked, unwilling to call Felix what he was, even in a language no one else could speak.

“Amatus,” Felix said, feeling righteous and hurt when Dorian shrunk a little. “ _Do you want to tell me anything?_ ”

Dorian stood up, putting his book down with a shaky hand. He took a step towards Felix, and Felix took one back.

“ _I don’t…_ ” Dorian said, voice trailing off, confusion heavy on him.

“ _I spoke to Bull_ ,” Felix said. “ _What happened, to make you act so guilty?_ ”

“ _Felix…_ ”

“ _You’ve been hovering around all week, making me feel an hourglass running out, but you don’t really care do you?”_ Felix asked. “ _For the first time in my life, I’m somewhere where I can be honest about how much I love you, and I’m still keeping it in because you’re ashamed of us. You’re ashamed of_ me _. You’re even ashamed about Bull, aren’t you? That’s why you didn’t tell me, because you’re already thinking about what you'd have to hide if_ he _had you!_ ”

Dorian had started stepping back, kept going until he was up against the wall, fingers curling on the brick. His eyes were wide, and his face was pale, and he wasn’t doing more than gaping at him, mouth open like a fish. He wasn’t saying anything. Felix was bleeding in front of him, and Dorian wouldn’t fucking say anything.

“ _I’m not dead! I’m here!_ ” Felix shouted. “ _I’m still here! Would it kill you to wait for me to die before you swap me out for someone else!_ ”

Dorian crumpled. And it was awful, and it was cruel, and Felix could not take it back. The proud line of Dorian’s back slumped, his body shaking so badly that the wall was the only thing keeping him up. He didn’t bother to cover his face, or cross his arms, or doing anything else to protect himself. His hands stayed by his side as he wept, breath hitching, tears heavy on his cheeks.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Dorian said. “ _I’m so sorry_.”

It cut through the hurt and the rage, and all Felix was left with was shame. He hadn’t yelled at Dorian since they’d been children, and the only people they _could_ get angry at were each-other. Felix hated yelling. They both did.

“ _Dorian_ , _I didn't mean it,_ ” Felix said.

“ _I don't know what to do,”_ Dorian said, looking pained, and lost.

Felix stepped in slowly, careful, in case Dorian didn’t want him near after what he’d said. Dorian just shook harder when Felix was close, sobbed like he was in pain when Felix put his arms around him.

“ _I’m sorry, my love, I’m sorry for what I said,”_ Felix said. “ _I was upset, and I didn't mean it. I’m sorry…_ ”

“ _I didn’t want to upset you, I pushed him away, but I didn’t hate it, and I didn’t want to upset you, I should’ve hated it, and I don’t want anyone but you, please believe me..._ ”

Felix shuddered as Dorian returned his embrace, holding him all the tighter. Dorian buried his face in Felix’s throat, hiding there even as their bodies were flush.

“ _I know,_ ” Felix said, pulling back enough that he could look into Dorian’s eyes. “ _I’m scared too, Dorian._ ”

“ _I love you,_ ” Dorian said.

Felix kissed him, gentle, so Dorian could push him away if he wanted. Dorian made it deeper, and it tasted like salt.

“ _All my life,_ ” Felix replied, whispered into Dorian’s lips.

And maybe he’d always known, but he hadn’t thought of it, hadn’t let himself when it had felt like they had so much time. Dorian was the love of his life, the first and the last, the only. His heart. But for Dorian, there would be others. And the thought of it was so painful even though Felix wanted there to be lovers, after he was gone. Wanted Dorian to be loved, because he was so easy to love, once you knew how.

“ _No one but you,_ ” Dorian said. “ _Please believe me, no one else but you_.”

“ _I believe you_ ,” Felix said, kissing him softly, pushing down the reflexive hurt.

He was a monster, hurting Dorian for being a person, for being wanted by someone other than Felix. But Felix knew himself, knew the ways in which he was like Alexius. When he’d said that Dorian was ashamed, he’d meant it, and he didn’t want either of them to live like that anymore. Felix wanted the last months of his life to be honest, and he wanted Dorian to learn to be unafraid. Wanted to give him that, before Felix was gone.

But it could wait a single day. It could wait that long for him to make amends.


	8. Makeshift dagger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added an extra scene to chapter 7, it's not important yet, but it will be.

 

Felix woke up with Dorian still lying on his chest, breathing slowly and evenly in the way Dorian did when he didn’t want to disturb. Felix brushed his hand lightly down Dorian’s back, and Dorian shivered. Dorian sat up, looking sad and lovely in the early morning light.

“We need to talk,” Dorian said.

“Yes, we do,” Felix said.

 

\---

 

“When we arrived here, we agreed we were going to be more open,” Felix said. “And as far as I know, the only people who are really aware of us are Ink, and Josephine. And Leliana, but she knows everything.”

“That she does,” Dorian said.

“Why don’t you want people to know?” Felix said.

Their hands were clasped, and Dorian squeezed his fingers around Felix’s.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you,” Dorian said. “Or judge you.”

That… made a lot of sense. Dorian’s sense of self-preservation had always been spotty, but he’d stab himself in the thigh if it would help Felix.

“Who would hurt me?” Felix asked.

Dorian looked away from him, down and towards the floor.

“Please don’t hide,” Felix said.

“I just need a minute,” Dorian said quietly, squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them again. “It’s not just that. I’ve never been…”

Dorian’s voice cut off, and Felix had a terrible premonition as to what he was going to say. Could feel it coming, in his bones.

“I was never good enough for you, and it’s easier to bear it when no one else knows. I know that’s selfish, and unfair.”

It surprised Felix, sometimes, just how much anger he could feel, towards someone he had once loved. All the parts of Dorian that had been chipped away, his self-esteem, his sense of self, all of it could be traced back to one terrible day with the Arvaraad and half a lifetime with Gereon Alexius. It was still a weight on his beautiful, beautiful Dorian, who didn’t believe that he was and couldn’t see it.

“That’s not true,” Felix said, shaking his head when Dorian grunted in the negative. “It’s not. And I never push you on this, because we’ve both been through so much…”

Dorian curled in on himself, making himself smaller, the way he used to when they were young, the way he still did when he was upset enough. Felix breathed deep and changed tracks.

“You’re half of me,” Felix said. “You’re the better half of me. Alexius used us, our whole lives. It’s fucked us up.”

“Don’t say that…” Dorian said.

“He treated us like exhibits at a zoo, and I remember what he did to you, when you were so small, and you were still healing…” Felix swallowed around the lump in his throat. “He made you stand in front of those people, and talked about you like you were an animal.”

Dorian kept looking away, but he didn’t break the clutch of their hands, so Felix went on.

“They were monsters, and everything they did to us was monstrous. You had a few scars, and they poked at them until you couldn’t stand to hear me tell you that I was attracted. Alexius dragged me around like a pet, knowing I’d never run so long as you were at home, I’d never even think about it.”

Alexius might not have known it, consciously, but that was exactly what he did. Used to look Dorian up and down like a man appraising a horse, and when it made Felix upset, he’d stop doing it for a while. Felix suspected, without proof, that Alexius had been close to selling Dorian, right around the point where he started producing interesting little research notes. And Felix had pushed all that down, so far down, because there’d been no benefit to knowing it then.

There was now.

“You were, you _are_ a better mage than any of them. You’re much better than me, even though you won’t hear it said. You are the finest example of Vintiness that I know.”

“Maevaris,” Dorian said softly.

“Including Maevaris,” Felix said.

Dorian looked up, only reaching Felix’s mouth before his courage failed him. He gently tugged their joined hands up, and pressed his lips to Felix’s knuckles.

“You are the finest _person_ I know,” Dorian said. “And that’s more important.”

“Then trust my taste,” Felix said.

Dorian huffed out a small laugh, finally able to look Felix in the eyes.

“That sounds a bit egotistical,” Dorian said.

“You’re not the only one who’s a ‘Vint,” Felix replied.

 

\---

 

Felix visited Alexius that same week, for the first time since he’d been imprisoned. He knew Dorian had been sending Alexius small things, but hadn’t wanted to go down to see him, or rather Dorian had, but hadn’t been able to make himself do it. The dungeons were cold, and a bit damp. Felix was sure the air wasn’t good for his lungs.

Alexius looked so different, Felix almost walked past him.

“My boy,” Alexius said, walking up to the bars. “You’ve finally come to visit me.”

Seeing him was enough to weaken Felix’s determination. Alexius looked thinner, and paler than he ever had, and it was easier to hate him when he wasn’t in the room. Looking at him brought back memories of warm conversation and long days of travelling.

But it also reminded him of Dorian’s face, young and blank, whenever he came back from a showing. How he’d flinch at nothing, face drawn like he was in terrible pain.

“Why did you treat me better?” Felix asked.

“What?” Alexius asked.

“Dorian and I. What was it about me that made you treat me better?”

“I didn’t think of him unfavourably… you were my guard and my valet, I simply acted accordingly.”

“Dorian was a better duelist. Is.”

“He wasn’t suited to the role.”

Felix had a memory, on so old and worn away by trauma, that he wasn’t sure that it was true. He remembered Alexius turning him around, pulling his lips down to look at his teeth, and checking him for marks. Nodding approvingly. Felix had been able to produce a small ball of fire in his hand. The slavers had stopped feeding them magebane at some point.

Dorian, though, he had executed a perfect, untrained fade step, when Alexius tried to pull Felix away. Had refused to let go of him, once he had his arms around Felix.

“Perfect mage, perfect mind…” Felix said. “Perfect body.”

Alexius was silent.

“Was all of this because he had stitch marks?” Felix asked.

“Nobody does anything without a reason,” Alexius replied. “Not even the Qunari.”

“He was _nine_.”

“He was a Qunari who did not listen, I was right to be wary of him,” Alexius said, and he had the gall to sound regretful.

“If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be alive,” Felix said.

“What?” Alexius asked.

“The Inquisitor stuck her neck out because Dorian couldn’t bear to see you hang.”

“He said nothing.”

“Neither did I, but _he_ wanted to, and she knew it.”

Alexius was silent for a moment, and Felix could almost hear him disbelieving. Felix tossed it over in his head; what would be kinder to say, what would be most honest. He didn’t know if he was being cruel or truthful. The fact that he had to consider it meant he cared more than he wanted to.

“I’m dying and I’m not ready to forgive you,” Felix said. “But Dorian isn’t even ready to _blame_ you.”

“Felix…”

“And I’m fairly sure he checks in on you.”

Alexius inhaled loudly enough that Felix could hear it, in the quiet of the dungeon.

“Why are you treating me this way?” Alexius asked, voice taut with hurt. “After everything I’ve done for you…”

“You buy a horse, you have to shoe it, Alexius,” Felix said. “Horse doesn’t have to like it.”

“That’s not how it was.”

“If you loved me, why didn’t you ever free me?”

Alexius couldn’t even look at him anymore.

“You wouldn’t have been safe on your own…” Alexius said.

“You could have set me up in Antiva, or Orlais, or any of the places we went to for months at a time. You trusted me to organize your day, why wouldn’t I be able to handle mine?”

“I don’t know why you’re being so ungrateful!” Alexius said. “You always wanted to come home!”

“Because I wanted to be with Dorian,” Felix replied.

Alexius looked up, upset plain on his face. Felix could almost see the moment when he realized.

“I always knew he would corrupt you,” Alexius said.

“Then how come I’m telling him not to care, and not the other way around.”

“He’s too much of a Qunari, he can’t help what he is.”

“He’s loyal to you because he’s a ‘Vint,” Felix said. “The Qunari are much too practical. They’d have burnt your thoughts out and put you to work in a field. Although admittedly, I didn’t suggest that either.”

“This place has made you cruel,” Alexius said.

Felix shook his head.

“If Ferelden has done anything, it’s made me more honest. Although it could also be that I’m feeling confessional.” Felix said. “I need you to know all this before I’m gone, because I won’t have you hurting Dorian more than you have, after. Do you understand me?”

“You’re taking the boots to an old man, Felix,” Alexius said.

“Do you _understand_?”

“I don’t wish to talk anymore,” Alexius said, turning away and moving to the back of his cell, where it was dark.

He sat down in the corner and did not move. Felix looked at him for a long time, then he left.

 

\---

 

Felix and Dorian had started holding hands in public.

“You look way too happy about this, Tadwinks,” Sera said.

“It’s just… romantic,” Ink said, not bothering to hold in a sigh.

“They’re like, married though, or whatever. So, how is that romantic?”

Ink gave Sera a dry look, and Sera blinked back, looking honestly confused. Sera was a powerhouse, and a rock, but Ink was learning that she lacked an understanding of nuance. Or an appreciation of it, if she was being honest.

But that was alright, she had Ink for that.

“You remember that play I took you to? When we were in Orlais?”

“The one where everybody died?” Sera said, brightening. “Yeah, that was brilliant!”

“Yeah it was,” Ink admitted. “But before that, the two main characters had to hide that they were in love, because if anyone knew, they’d be forced apart.”

Sera squirmed a little, frown blooming on her face. Ink took her hand, feeling a little regretful.

“I didn’t really like that bit,” Sera said.

“That was Felix and Dorian.” Ink replied, gently.

“But that’s stupid, why didn’t they just leave? I’d leave,” Sera said. “But like, with you.”

“I love that about you,” Ink said, smiling.

Sera looked at her, and didn’t blink. She looked a little like cats did, when you surprised them.

“Did I say that out loud?” Ink asked.

 

\---

 

“Are you quite alright?” Solas asked, looking as close to perturbed as she had ever seen him.

“Of course, why do you ask?” Ink said.

“Because you are crying.”

She couldn’t quite seem to stop, but that didn’t mean he had to comment on it.

“There’s nothing wrong with crying,” Her mum said so. “Do you know if Dorian’s in, by the way?”

“I… didn’t say there was. And I believe so.”

“Thanks,” Ink said, wiping her cheeks and sniffling. “Alright, have a good one.”

Ink walked past him before his confused hovering could turn into something else. It wasn’t that she disliked him, but she wasn’t going to talk to him about anything with regards to Sera. They got on like a house on fire in the literal sense. Which was to say not very well, even after the flames were out.

“Dorian?” Ink called, as she ascended the stairs.

“My dear Inquisitor,” Dorian replied. “How lovely of you to visit.”

She couldn’t see him, so she followed the wall around to his alcove. He was lounging in his chair, propping himself up on one hand as he read. Ink always felt that he had an air of drama around him that seemed to get more established the longer she knew him. She liked it.

“Can I ask you something?” Ink said.

Dorian looked up, the smile on his face freezing when he saw her.

“Oh, my dear, whatever’s the matter?”

To her abundant, limitless shame, she burst into tears. She could hear the sound of it echoing all through the library.

 

\---

 

The only place that could sit them both was the table, so Dorian wound up holding Ink to his side, all of his research piled up next to them. She’d stopped actively crying, but she still looked miserable.

“So, what happened with Sera?” Dorian asked.

That was all he’d been able to glean from their conversation, that Ink was upset, and Sera was involved. He wasn’t sure they’d ever quarrelled before, but the first one was… well, in his experience it was memorable. And ended in a closet.

“I sort of accidentally told her I loved her,” Ink said. “And she ran off.”

“Ah,” Dorian said.

It wasn’t surprising, exactly. Sera didn’t seem the sort to have gotten much honest affection in her life, and that sort of thing left wounds. Had left him wounds, though he was still having difficulty admitting it.

“She ran off!” Ink said, looking at Dorian, looking for sympathy or an explanation.

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said. “I don’t know if this helps but… For some people it can be quite difficult to deal with open displays of affection.”

Ink looked at him, and Dorian felt there was a touch of judgment in it.

“I am one such person,” Dorian said. “It doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you, or doesn’t want what you want. It means she doesn’t know how to handle something like this.”

“Like me loving her?” Ink asked, sounding a little incredulous.

“Like being loved,” Dorian said.

Ink scrubbed at her cheeks some more, in lieu of replying. Dorian used the quiet to run a hand through her hair, tidying it a little. She was wearing it out. It was very flattering.

“How do I even… how do I fix this?” She asked.

“That’s a tricky one,” Dorian said. “It’s less something you can fix, and more something you can talk about, can work on, together.”

“Voice of experience?”

Dorian huffed out a laugh.

“Something like that.”

“How did you handle it?” Ink asked.

“How did I handle it?” Dorian said. “Not well. It was more that Felix handled me, and I let him.”

Ink made a soft sound, and Dorian felt a wave of embarrassment hit him like rising floodwaters.

“Pretend I didn’t say that. What I mean is, there may have been a time when someone told me how they felt about me, and I may have reacted by shouting at them and hiding in the library.”

“You did that?” Ink said.

“I thought he was mad, or making fun of me, even though I had no reason to believe either,” Dorian said. “I wanted to hear it, but I didn’t want to believe it, so I lashed out. It was awful and unreasonable, but he forgave me. And after he gave me a little space, he came to find me, and he talked me down. We worked it out.”

“I don’t know what to say to her,” Ink said.

“I wish I could tell you.”

“What did Felix say, to you?”

“Told me about some exotic thing he saw in a peach tree.”

Ink looked at him, mouth open a little, in confusion.

“I was the thing in the tree,” Dorian said. “It was a little easier to believe, when he gave it a timeline.”

“And everything was fine after that?”

“Well, we still had to hide our relationship and spend months apart whenever Master Alexius was travelling, but on that particular day we wound up necking in a closet, so I’m considering it a win.”

Ink laughed quietly, and Dorian felt an aching in his chest. He wished that he could fix it for her, but life wasn’t like that.

“No matter what happens, you will be ok,” Dorian said. “You’re not alone, neither of you.”

“Thanks, Dorian.” Ink said. “I think… I think I’m ready to go find her, try and have a talk.”

“Good luck, and come find me after, if you need anything.”

“I will,” Ink said, turning at the waist so she could hug him.

“I’ll walk you down,” Dorian replied.

 

\---

 

“That was kind of you,” Solas said, once Ink was gone.

“It’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations,” Dorian said, lightly.

“Voices carry in the library, I’m afraid,” Solas replied.

And to his credit, he did sound a little regretful about it. Dorian decided to give him credit for it, although he was loath to do it.

“I know you don’t much care for Sera,” Dorian said. “I hope you’ll keep it to yourself.”

Solas breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly. Still, he nodded, in the end.

“Unless it becomes relevant, I shall hold my tongue,” Solas said.

“Thank you.”

Dorian turned back towards the stairs, not quite ready to get back to work, but willing to try. He paused when he heard Solas clear his throat.

“What business is it of yours, should I not?” He asked. “They’re not the same as you, though you draw parallels.”

His annoyance was reflexive, but he could acknowledge that Solas had a point. A point he found _pedantic_ and _mean-spirited_ , but still a point. It was difficult to speak fairly with the man, when he annoyed Dorian so.

“I care enough about them to give them relevant advice,” Dorian said. “And if they don’t share everything in common with… Felix and me… then they share even less with you. So that hardly makes your opinion more warranted than ours.”

Solas didn’t even look angry at him for saying it. _How dare he_ , Dorian thought.

“Why do you ask?” Dorian said, against his better judgment.

“I’m not sure,” Solas said. “But, I do find myself questioning certain judgments I have made in the past. I would be… pleased to be wrong.”

Dorian, rather sadly, he thought, was fairly sure he knew what Solas was talking about. He should have let it lay there, but he was, as Felix had said, a little shit.

“Well, not entirely wrong,” Dorian said musingly, walking a little closer to the stairs. “Upset her enough and I still might stab you with my horns.”

Solas looked entirely unimpressed.

“You’d break your bloody neck,” He said.

“I’d cut them _off_ first,” Dorian replied, making his way back to his nook.


	9. Abstract tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it's Mae!

Someone knocked on his door. That, in and of itself, was a fairly rare event. The Chargers tended to just burst in when they felt like it, and most other people preferred to approach him in the Tavern. The only person who had ever knocked had been… _huh_.

Bull opened the door, and there was Felix.

“Hey,” Bull said, leaning against the jam.

“Hello,” Felix said.

He looked a little sheepish, his shoulders stiffer than usual, his back a little more straight. He had a collection of papers in his hand.

“I, uh, I owe you some reports,” Felix said. “And an apology.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bull said.

“No, I… behaved poorly, and I regret it,” Felix said. “You weren’t at fault and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Bull had to hold back a spike of laughter, not meanly intended but unlikely to be appreciated. Of course Felix would think walking off angry was something worth apologizing over. He was soft-hearted, down to the core. Bull had no idea how he’d ever been a body guard. He wasn’t suited to violence.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bull said. “And, uh, I don’t want to press but, are things going ok? With…”

Bull had seen them around every once in a while, once with their arms looped together, but they were both looking more tired. He had to wonder, if that was what love did to you, why would anyone bother?

“Yes,” Felix said. “Yes, we’re… we’re talking things out.”

“Good, good,” Bull said.

“Look, I… I don’t want to impose right after trying to make amends but…”

“Would you like to grab a beer?” Bull asked.

“Yes,” Felix said, relief loosening his posture back to where it should have been.

 

\---

 

“You’ll see it later, but I kind of want to tell you now,” Felix said. “I found some cysts in my liver. I’m feeling a bit down about it.”

Felix stared into his flagon and Bull stared at Felix. Bull pondered the wisdom of drinking with an affected liver, and then he pondered the wisdom of telling Felix how to live his life. He decided to hold his tongue on that count. Felix didn’t need someone to tell him what to do.

“I’m sorry,” Bull said.

“Thanks,” Felix replied.

“Do you want to talk about it, or would you rather take your mind off?”

“I’m not even sure,” Felix said. “I have to tell Dorian when I see him tonight, and I’m just…”

Felix sighed and buried his face in his hand.

“I don’t like giving him bad news.”

Bull wasn’t sure what advice to give. Felix’s illness had progressed at a far slower rate than it did in humans, but he was still in uncharted territory. No other Kossith in recorded history had contracted the Blight and lived, unchanged except that it was killing him. There were no comparisons, and the only thing that Bull knew for sure was that however Felix was feeling, the other man knew there was more of it to come.

“I wish I could help you,” Bull said. “I’m sorry. It’s some painful shit.”

Felix looked up at Bull and huffed out a laugh. He smiled tiredly, but he looked a little less overcome.

“Thank you for listening,” Felix said.

“Anytime,” Bull said.

 

\---

 

“Hey,” Krem said, later that week. “Someone’s coming up the road.”

“And I care, why?” Bull asked.

He was sharpening his axe, carefully running his stone down the blade. It was steel, and sturdy, but proper maintenance was the key to success. It also made Ma’am happy, but that was secondary.

“Tevinter livery, not sure whose, but it’s definitely an Altus.”

Bull put his axe down.

 

\---

 

“Let me look through the glass again…” Bull said.

“No, you’ve got no idea what you’re doing. I think I see… well there’s diamonds on their emblem.”

“Blue, diamonds, could be a Xalta, but they’re conservative, even for ‘Vints.”

“There’s a snake, too. Looks like a viper,” Krem said. “Which means…”

“Tilani,” Bull said.

“What’s she doing up our end?” Krem asked.

“Her house used to be aligned with house Alexius,” Bull said. “But Dorian said they’re _friends_.”

“Well, you know me Chief,” Krem said.

“I do,” Bull replied.

“I’m not by nature a nosey person.”

“ _No_.”

“But I want to see that,” Krem said.

“Go grab the boys, I’ll get lunch,” Bull said.

 

\---

 

Maevaris Tilani stepped from her carriage like a butterfly alighting on a leaf. If the journey to Skyhold had fatigued her at all, she did not show it. Her hair was set in a perfect wave, bright and blonde, and made all the brighter by the pastel blue of her dress. She was, as Ink had heard it said, a vision.

And she made Ink wonder if she could get Sera to wear a different primary colour.

“Magister Tilani,” Josephine said. “This is the lady Inquisitor of Skyhold, Inkuudi Adaar.”

Smoothly, elegantly, Tilani inclined her head, and she did so to Ink, and not to any other person in attendance. Varric chuckled a little, standing at Ink’s side.

“Hello, Mae,” Varric said, smiling.

“Dear cousin in law, how good to see you, and is a pleasure to meet you, lady Inquisitor,” She said. “Thank you so much for agreeing to speak with me.”

Her lips curled into a playful-looking smile. Up close, Ink could see that her dress was decorated with feathers, and the actual fabric was shear but layered, so it didn’t reveal anything. Maevaris Tilani was beautiful in a way Ink was fairly sure she never would be.

“Well, any opponent of the Venatori is a friend of mine,” Ink said, pleased that her voice came out even. “We’re glad to have you here, Magister Tilani.”

“Do please call me Mae,” She said.

“Alright,” Ink said, wishing she could kick herself.

“I understand the importance of haste, but I was hoping I could see to my servant’s comfort before we met,” Mae said. “Their journey has been more _physically demanding_ than mine.”

Ink suspected Mae worded things like that on purpose. Varric’s renewed laughter spoke to it.

“Of course, Josephine has prepared quarters for you and your men, you can take the morning to refresh yourself if you wish to, and then we can meet during the afternoon.”

“We even put you in a room without holes in it,” Varric said, gesturing to the ongoing renovations in the Keep.

“Most kind,” Mae said, smiling warmly. “Now I hate to impose more than I have, but you wouldn’t happen to know where I might find Dorian, previously of the Alexius household, would you?”

“This time of day? He should be…”

“Mae?” Ink heard, from behind her.

Mae lit up like a candle, and Ink followed her gaze towards the side of the courtyard, to the nearest door that lead inside the Keep. Dorian was standing in it, Felix beside him. Felix was looking at Dorian with amusement. Dorian looked…

Almost breathlessly happy.

“Me carissina filepu!” Mae said.

“Komoto te huc attusit?” Dorian said.

They broke the distance between them and embraced, Mae cupping the back of his head and holding on for dear life with her other hand. Dorian was much more careful with his strength, but no less overcome. They parted, but only after a long moment had passed.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” He said, in Common.

“Well, you know how I like to surprise you, Darling,” She replied.

“Hello, Mae,” Felix said, voice just a little wry as he ambled over to her.

“Felicis Felix!” She said, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “So good to see you.”

“I knew it was coming,” Josephine said quietly. “And yet, I still have trouble believing it.”

 

\---

 

Felix got to the Tavern before even Bull did. That wasn’t completely worth mentioning except that Felix had already started drinking, and he was doing so determinedly.

“Alright, so, I haven’t said anything before because it’s none of my business,” Bull said. “But are you sure you should be drinking like that?”

“I’ll stop in a bit,” Felix said, taking another long pull.

“You got something bothering you, buddy? I thought you’d be happy, what with your friend showing up and bringing you things.”

And Tilani _had_. She’d brought an entire caravan full of books that had almost made Dorian cry, in front of the entire courtyard. She’d also brought horn balm (which Bull was going to beg, borrow or steal), and spices.

The Chargers had camped out so they could see what was happening. It had been fun.

“Bull, I’m not sure you’ll understand this, so get Krem to explain it if you have to,” Felix said.

“Can do.”

“Mae is not my friend,” Felix said. “She is the closest thing I have to a mother in law.”

“Oh,” Bull said.

 

\---

 

Krem actually bought Felix a drink, right before he got cut off for the night. Felix savoured it, with all the seriousness of a man about to go off to war.

“So, how bad is it?” Krem asked.

“Bad enough that she drives me mad, but not so much that I don’t feel guilty about it,” Felix replied.

“Am I allowed to tell people her nickname for him?” Krem said.

“ _No_.” Felix replied.

“I didn’t catch it, honestly,” Bull said.

“Do not tell him,” Felix replied.

“Where’d she get all those books?” Bull asked. “Looked like a library’s worth.”

Felix began to look remorseful. It was a little like seeing a dog after it had shamed itself. Unnecessary but compelling, all the same.

“They were already Dorian’s, in a way. She just managed to acquire them, with what I presume was a lot of money and a rigged auction,” He said.

“Dorian’s?” Krem asked.

“Dorian managed Alexius’ library. Every book that went into the collection passed through his hands,” Felix said. “Alexius was actually known for having one of, if not the best, private libraries in Tevinter.”

“Shit,” Bull said.

“We chose to give that all up when we defected, but, to get to see it again…”

“Dorian must be pleased she chose to give it to the Inquisition,” Krem said.

Felix shook his head.

“She _didn’t_. She gave it to Dorian. And yes, it gives us an advantage we need, absolutely… But I think you’d have to kill him to get him to give it up. It’s been his life’s work.”

“Where are you putting it?” Bull asked.

“Technically we have a spare room,” Felix said wryly.

 

\---

 

“She calls Dorian her little bunny rabbit,” Krem said quietly, when Felix went to buy a round for the people who were allowed to have more.

“That is amazing,” Bull replied.

 

\---

 

“Rowan’s Rose!” Dorian said. “How did you know?”

“It felt like that sort of day,” Mae said, curling her legs up beneath her on her divan. “Although I have brought you others. I assume you must be languishing in the South.”

Dorian took a sip and sighed, savouring the wine. It was crisp and comforting, and made him think of home.

“I truly am,” Dorian said. “Fereldens make liquor in weakest sense of the word.”

“Oh, I know. Bless them for trying…”

“… but they really should stop.”

Mae chuckled a little and Dorian couldn’t help but to follow suit. He’d never had many friends in his life, only Felix and Mae, for the longest time. People in Alexius’ household had been civil to him, but no one had wanted to spend too much time with a Kossith. Mae had never cared. Although, truthfully, as an Altus she was allowed not to.

“How are you holding up?” She asked.

Dorian snorted.

“I’m a complete mess. I’m lucky Felix puts up with me.”

“That’s not true,” Mae said.

“It is,” Dorian said. “You haven’t seen me, it’s been… an emotional time.”

Mae sighed and reached out her hand to touch Dorian’s. His chair was right next to hers, so she didn’t have to stretch far. It still felt strange to Dorian that his hand was so much bigger than hers. When he’d met her, she’d towered above him. Even when that had ceased to be true, she’d always felt larger than life.

“How _is_ Felix doing?” Mae asked.

“He’s alright. His… his illness is progressing and neither of us are taking it as stoically as we used to. He was so stable for so long we could almost ignore it, but it’s beginning to spread, and he gets tired more easily now. He gets faint. We’re, well, we’re making love a little less.”

Mae squeezed her fingers around his.

“I’m sorry,” She said. “We don’t have to talk about it, if you’d prefer not to.”

“No, it’s nice to have someone around that I can rely on, other than Felix. There are some lovely people here, but I’d rather not be so forward with someone I work for.”

“With,” Mae said. “Well, save the Inquisitor.”

“I’m still getting used to that,” Dorian admitted.

“I’m glad that you’re out.”

“I’m not sure I am.”

Dorian felt Mae flinch, and regretted saying so much. It was more than he’d admitted to anyone. He’d barely been able to admit it to himself.

“Dorian, you can’t mean that,” Mae said.

“I don’t know,” Dorian replied. “Things used to be simpler. Back home I was a known quantity. Here I’m new and strange, and Felix is…”

“Felix is what?”

“Better at all this, better with people, better with this frigid place, and he’s still… he’s still dying,” Dorian’s voice cracked and he felt a spike of shame.

Mae slipped off her chair and spanned the distance between them. She leaned close enough that she could hold his head against her shoulder.

“This was where he was meant to be, and I still want to go home. Even though I’ve no home to go to,” Dorian said. “I want to be in Tevinter, and I can’t be. I want to be with Felix, and I’m going to lose him. He’s everything. I don’t know what I’ll do with…”

Dorian closed his eyes tightly and shuddered. He’d spent many hours of his childhood crying into Mae’s skirts when no one else was watching, but it felt rude to do so when she’d come so far to see him. It felt weak. Pathetic.

“Shhh,” Mae said. “I’m sorry, my dear.”

“He needs me to be better than I am,” Dorian said.

“He needs _you_ , that’s all,” Mae said.

“I don’t want to be here without him,” Dorian said. “I don’t want to _be_ without him.”

Mae brushed her hand through his hair, and when Dorian looked up he could see how worried she looked. He felt a new rush of shame for making her feel that way.

“Shush,” She said, as if she knew what he was thinking. “You get so dramatic when you’re upset. I’m allowed to feel sad for you.”

“Sorry, Mae.”

“When I… when I lost Thorold, I thought I’d never get up again, but I did, so I don’t want you folding in and thinking of throwing yourself off a tower, like some tragic heroine,” Mae said. “I’m sorry this is happening to you both, I’m sorry it’s happening now. I just… I do love you very much. You are loved, Dorian, as you are.”

Dorian’s throat felt sore. He opened his mouth to reply and nothing came out.

“It’s the only reason Felix puts up with me, you know.”

Dorian looked up at her, eyes a little blurry.

“It’s true,” Mae said. “I drive him mad. He endures my presence because he loves how much I love you. I think he used to get a little jealous over you.”

Dorian huffed out a laugh, “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh yes, if he ever saw us in the library he’d puff up and come away with an excuse to make you leave,” Mae said. “As if I could ever take you away from your man.”

Dorian was silent for a moment, mind ticking away at the few times they’d all been in a room together. Mae never had visited so much when Master Alexius was in, so it hadn’t happened too often.

“Oh, oh yes, he’d always have an errand for me,” Dorian said, feeling a little gobsmacked.

“I know you like to think of yourself as a lonely little martyr… not entirely without basis, unfortunately, but Felix isn’t perfect either. You need to let him be imperfect, so he can rely on you.”

He knew she wasn’t just talking to him. He could hear it, the distance in her voice, as if she was speaking to someone from long ago. Dorian knew her history, and appreciated her insight. She wasn’t thinking in the abstract, this was something she had lived.

“Thank you, Mae,” Dorian said. “For listening, and for your advice.”

“Would that it were better,” She said.

“Oh, don’t fish,” Dorian said, and he laughed when she smacked him on the shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Ha, haaa.


End file.
